


Unweave

by GalaxyThreads



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Asgard is done with Odin, Avengers Tower, Avengers in Asgard, Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Loki (Marvel)'s Lips Sewn Shut, Not Thor: The Dark World Compliant, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Redemption, Sigyn (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Team as Family, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, thor whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-10-26 18:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 45,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17751452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyThreads/pseuds/GalaxyThreads
Summary: Five years after New York, Thor returns with news that the Avengers' presence has been demanded on Asgard to celebrate the long-lasting peace between worlds. When they run into Loki's wife, Sigyn, however, they realize that Asgard is less so much the rainbow-butterfly realm they'd been thinking and more so a prison for Loki...and Thor. (Take on Loki's monster kids) (No slash/smut)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, welcome to this story! Thank you for taking interest! :)
> 
> So...yeah. Um, re-posting. I'm sorry. I just, I don't know. So um. Yeah. (Awkward mumbling and stumbling over words is about all I've got at the moment, haha).
> 
> Basic background for things to make sense: This is a canon divergence from the Avengers, so Thor: the Dark World didn't happen (and Loki has been imprisoned since his defeat), nor Age of Ultron, the Winter Solider did to some degree, though. Natasha and Clint is a pairing I'm still attempting, so there isn't going to be a Laura/Barton family in this version. ;) Also, I've wanted to play with Norse mythology into MCU for a while, so there are going to be some elements of that in here (like Sigyn, and Loki's kids, mostly).
> 
> Rated for: Minor violence, PTSD, implied/referenced of child abuse, child abuse, implied/referenced torture, aftermath of torture, a darker overall feeling—as in the fact that it's not based around humor. No slash, no smut, no non-con, no incest, nothing inappropriate. Language is all K. I delve into some heavy topics in this story and I ask and warn you all to be safe. Take care of yourselves, loves. :)
> 
> WARNING: I typically try to portray Asgard as a nice(ish) country with Odin and Frigga being parents that tried. For the sake of the plot, that is not the case in this story. A+ parenting abounds. Seriously.
> 
> Pairings: Jane/Thor, Pepper/Tony, Natasha/Clint, Loki/Sigyn
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing
> 
> Sorry for any grammar/spelling errors.
> 
> For your information, this story is cross-posted on Fanfiction.Net under the pen name of "LodestarJumper".
> 
> Just a personal note, if you could refrain from using cussing/strong language if you comment (no offense to how you speak! Promise! =) It just makes me uncomfortable) I would greatly appreciate that. ;)

* * *

 

_Started screaming: "Is there someone out there?"_

_Please, help me!_

_Come get me!_

-Alan Walker, K-391, & Emelie Hollow "Lily"

* * *

"I'm sorry,  _what?"_ Tony looks up from the hologram in his hands to Thor, eyebrows lifted; his voice pitched with disbelief. The frustration and surprise spinning through him add to the high mixture of emotions clear and readily displayed across the words to easily be read. Thor fidgets, his expression morphing into that of someone who would love to be  _anywhere_ but here.

His lips thin tightly and it looks like it takes him a great deal of effort to split them apart. "It's not by my choice." Thor says a moment later, his voice is strangely defensive when there's no reason for it  _to_ be.

"Obviously." Tony agrees, tone dry. Honestly he'd be surprised if it  _was._ He releases the hologram into Jarvis's systems and turns to look at the Asgardian properly. Thor is leaning against another one of the desks in the room, arms folded across his chest and flexing his right hand's fingers in and out. The agitation is stark.

Tony presses his lips together lightly.

Thor isn't a person who usually lets his unhappy emotions play this widely with his expressions and stance, usually if he  _is_ upset, it isn't this...visible. This is more pressing than Thor's revealing—despite the very small and limited amount of information Tony  _has_ learned. Thor tilts his head back slightly and his fists clench, the anxious flexing finally quelled.

"Your presence has been demanded on Asgard." Thor repeats and Tony mentally backtracks at his words.

Thor entered his workshop close to ten minutes ago—but was quiet, unusual, but not alien. Tony hadn't thought on it much; over the last five years Tony's known him, he's come to know that Thor is sometimes a seclusive creature. He'll seek out company but doesn't actually want interaction. Tony respects it. He can still talk  _to_ him—Thor is still listening—but the contributes the Asgardian makes are brief. Often, in these instances Thor can be seen with one of Steve's sketchbooks in hand, drawing restlessly.

This time was different.

Thor was silent, and though he didn't have any bound paper, he wasn't empty handed. Instead, he was carrying a small satchel on his shoulder. The bag currently rests on the desk Thor is leaning against, but hasn't made any further movement than that.

Thor had remained silent until Tony started poking at his moody stiff silence until Thor had blurted the sentence out. Tony has no reasoning as to a why, who, or what. He's more surprised than he cares to admit about this.

Up to this point, neither Tony or any of the rest of the team have been to Thor's home planet. Honestly, the only information they really have on it is Norse Mythology books (which are, according to Thor: ' _the largest collection of fraud on Midgard')_ and Thor's brief words and art work. It isn't much. Thor does not speak of it. Ever.

Tony stares at his teammate for a long few seconds, but Thor does not look any closer to continuing than he does adopting an elephant. Tony leans back slightly on his stool. "We didn't get arrested, did we?"

He's not certain what they would have to do to get summoned to Asgard like this, but prison seems like a good bet. Ah, nuts, Pepper's going to be furious—scratch that  _Coulson's_ going to take their heads and mount them on a wall. The recently elected director of S.H.I.E.L.D. has worked tooth and nail to get them out of the mess Steve made with the Helicarriers. Now that they're back to answering from S.H.I.E.L.D., the U.N. has backed off their case and Coulson has threatened them with few words on what will happen should another disaster like that arise again.

Thor looks mildly surprised, as if the thought honestly hadn't occurred to him before now. Tony bites at wash of mild relief as it hits him; just because they aren't getting arrested doesn't necessary mean something of an equal calamity didn't happen.

"No," Thor assures, but the amusement Tony is expecting is absent. Tony allows the skepticism to show on his face. At it, Thor sighs and with what looks like effort peels himself away from the desk. He grabs the bag and flips the top open revealing thick embroidery of something that looks close to a golden organ pipes spread out in a tight circle. It takes Tony a little longer than he cares to admit for him to realize it's Asgard's crest.

Thor pulls out a letter wrapped with a thin brown strand of leather. It's yellowing, but Tony doubts it's from age. Thor sets the bag back down then drags himself across the room to hold it out to Tony. The distaste directed at the paper from the Asgardian is unprecedented.

Tony flicks his gaze up to Thor's blank face before taking the paper. It's thicker than he's used to and has the texture of a paint canvas. He slides the string off and flips it open. In a thick, almost unreadable scrawl is his name:  _Anthony Edward Stark_ followed by a greeting he doesn't understand.

He has no idea when they learned his full name. Secrets aren't kept between the team, so  _Thor_ knows it (he can't recall when he shared it nor the context, but he knows that Thor  _does_ know it because he is as aware of the prince's), but how the Asgardians learned it is beyond him. He's not certain he wants to find out, admittedly.

Tony forces his eyes to move beyond the unsettling text to the following paragraphs:

_We welcome your presence in our great city for the celebration of one-hundred and seventy five years of peace between the Nine. A celebration to be noted in the history books as a record unknown to us all. We would deeply appreciate your presence in Serenity._

_No weapons will be allowed and we encourage you to pack accordingly, however, for the week long celebration. We happily invite you to bring your own token of jubilance. May we continue to prosper with the reign of our good and just king, Odin. Long live the king! May peace prosper!_

There's no signature, but rather wax sealed with some sort of strange bird symbol. Tony glances up at Thor, confused. Unless he's been granted immortality along with a large part of the population and none of them noticed, he's fairly certain Asgardians can't tell time.

"...It's been five." He states tonelessly, flicking the letter up so Thor has context to it.

Barely.

It's  _barely_ been five; closer to four and eleven (maybe) months since the Attack on New York. That is not over a hundred—it's not even fifty. They had a day of mourning for the lost a year after the attack, but beyond that there has been little recognition that the date has passed.

_It is not over a hundred._

Thor's lips stretch into something that's supposed to be happy, but it's bitter. "On Earth, yes," he agrees. Tony stares at him until Thor elaborates: "Time passes at different speeds depending on where you stand in the Nine. The amount fluctuates; most often it's faster here than Asgard, but that changed around the time I first arrived on Earth. By the end of this year, Earth's rotation will once again surpass Asgard for the next hundred years."

That is...confusing. Tony hadn't really thought about time for Asgardians before, but he's less surprised than he thinks is proper. Admittedly, after hearing Thor's scarce tales from his home planet he's long since decided that their motto is something along the lines of this: " _if we can make it complicated—we will."_

Tony flicks his gaze down to the invitation again then looks up at the blond. "Okay." He agrees.

Wait.

_One hundred and seventy five?_

Thor makes lapses of a few months to his planet once a year, but since the Hydra incident, he's spent most of it here. Tony had no idea he was losing  _decades._ That's insane. Why would he spend so much time  _here_ knowing that such time was slipping between his fingers on his home planet?

Tony presses his lips together, deciding better than to prod at the moment and flicks his gaze back to the paper, looking for Thor's dramatic declaration through the scribbles. He doesn't find anything. There isn't anything even remotely hinting at "demanded".

"This looks like an invitation to me, not a command." Tony says and rests the piece of paper on his desk then looks up for an explanation.

Thor pinches the bridge of his nose; agitated and low on patience. "It's not." He promises.

"I think you should teach me Asgardian English, then;" Tony counters folding his arms across his chest. His wedding ring digs into his bicep, but he can't bring himself to focus on it.

His teammate runs a hand through his recently cut hair and his fingers flex in anxiety again. "My father cannot outright  _demand_ your presence, it would be humiliating to my Realm for you to have to be forced there. The team is one of the reasons this was even possible and we can't ignore that." The words, well praising, do not leave Thor's lips jubilantly.

Tony feels a frown begin to clasp the edges of his mouth.

"But?" He presses.

"It's been demanded all the same." Thor explains and swings his hands in agitation before slamming a finger down on the beginning of the letter where Tony's full name is. "They've listed your full name; you are  _required_ to come."

Since  _when?_

Asgardian's list full names when they mean that?

He has very little idea of Asgardian customs, but this one seems a little weird.

Tony glances back at the letter, strangely offended. They went to all the work to learn his full name to  _threaten_ him? That was rude.

Tony stares at his teammate. Yes, they have been demanded to come, but honestly? It doesn't sound as terrible as Thor seems to be presenting it as. They just have to go to Asgard for a few hours, pop in to say "hi" and then leave? How bad can it get? Someone doesn't return their wave? Thor is one of the most decent people he knows and, sans his brother, the rest of Asgard can't be much different. The whole "it takes a village to raise a child" thing.

Tony leans back against the rim of the desk and resists the urge to pick up one of the various tools on his desk and fiddle with it. "Why don't you want us to go?" If they  _aren't_ going to be arrested and he has doubts they'll be in any life-stopping danger at a  _party_ , he has no idea the reasoning behind Thor's aversion to this.

Thor opens his mouth to blurt something, then bites his tongue and says instead: "It's not that."

Doubtful.

Tony lifts an eyebrow.

"It's  _not."_ Thor insists.

He releases a breath through his nose. "Then what  _is?"_

Thor hisses through his teeth. Tony has rarely seen him this anxious. It's almost unnerving. The distress seems to roll off him in violent waves, and it doesn't recede.

" _Thor."_ Tony pushes.

Thor reels slightly and runs another hand through his scalp. "It's just that— _I_ do not want to go."

Tony feels his eyes widen with surprise. Thor is ninety-three percent an extrovert (and the remaining seven is a killer on his introversion days) and jumps at a chance to spend time with people. He rarely misses an opportunity to do so. What is so different from this? Shouldn't he be excited? One hundred and seventy five years is an achievement.

"What? Why?" Tony asks.

Thor's expression looks strangely helpless for a moment, reminding Tony abruptly that despite his Asgardian years, he's only in his twenties. "It is nothing I wish to discuss."

"It's something  _I_ want to." Tony counters and Thor's teeth latch together forcing him to realize it's a lost cause. If Thor decides he's not going to speak on something, nothing save an unstoppable force is going to take it from him. Tony bites at his tongue.

Thor glances back at the bag on the desk and gives an infinitesimal sigh. "I need to deliver the rest of those." He probably would have been happier after being told all his puppies (which he doesn't have) all gave up the ghost.

Thor moves across the room and grabs the satchel grasping the handle to lift it. "Thank you for your time, Tony, I am sorry for any inconvenience this may cause you. Be prepared to leave before sunset tonight."

Whoa. Okay, wait.

_Tonight?_

That's much sooner than he was expecting. A week notice would have been nice—or even maybe a two day one. Sunset? That's in...maybe four hours. How long did the card say they were staying? A week? Who celebrates something for a week? The most Tony can last is a few hours before he's bored out of his mind.

Tony's mind snaps back into the present at footsteps. Thor moves towards the door, but his hand stills then hovers over the knob at Tony's called, but blurted question: "Are you allowed to bring Jane?"

Tony can't see his expression, but doesn't imagine it's pleasant judging from the tone. "No. The All-Father does not approve of her. The only people I am permitted to bring with me is the five of you."

Oh. But Thor loves Jane. That's rude. Tony flicks his gaze up from the letter to ask some more questions, but when his gaze settles upwards, Thor is gone.

000o000

It's roughly six hours later when Tony walks into the communal room, luggage in hand. He'd spent the last hour or so calling the board, Pepper, and Coulson to let them know where they'll be for the next few days(?). After that was one of the most frantic packing jobs he's done to date. How people can normally wait until an hour before hand is beyond him. He much prefers being over prepared than not certain that he got everything—which to be frank, he still doesn't know. What  _are_ you supposed to bring to a leave-your-planet-getaway? Especially when said getaway is a celebration/party?

Thor never talks about Asgard.

Tony doesn't know what would be acceptable. He doesn't know if it would be rude to wear a specific color in front of royalty, if doing a gesture can get you thrown in prison—small little details that he  _likes_ to be aware of.

Tony drops his bag onto the floor with the rest of his teams then looks up. Because of the summer months, the sun is perched happily in the late afternoon sky making it appear to be around noon despite the late hour. It doesn't look like seven in the night.

Steve is sitting on one of the couches cross legged, sketchbook on his legs. He's obviously been here for awhile which—overachiever—is probably why his fingers are so dark with pencil smears. Natasha is standing next to Clint, both of them conversing quietly. Bruce is a few feet from the two, looking out of place and unsure as he repeatedly fiddles with his blue tie. Thor is absent—and Tony can't say he's awfully surprised at this fact.

Tony hasn't seen any of the team until now, but there was a brief conversation over text between the five of them discussing this (save Thor). They're all as uncertain about it as he is. He wasn't expecting this to happen; like at all, they weren't required to join in Loki's trial, so why would they have to be in attendance for a stupid party? Does it honestly matter this much to the Asgardians that they're present? Thor seems like he's being dragged through rose bushes with bare feet.

"Bruce," Natasha says suddenly and Tony flicks his gaze to the man in question. The redhead's voice was soft, but since it's above the previous silence it's akin to yelling. Bruce whips his head up to her, query in his expression. Natasha lifts her hands up and gestures to her neck making a slight fidgeting motion with them, "Stop touching it."

Bruce's hands still on the cloth as if he's been caught with a redhanded with a murder weapon. "Ah," he says, then bites his tongue, "it looks stupid."

"You look fine." Tony assures. If a little weird. Bruce is one for polos, but he rarely dons a two-piece suit unless it's required or he's been roped into it. The dark gray fabric easily blends together, but because it's Bruce wearing it...it's just  _weird._ Frankly, though, he's not sure if any of them don't feel awkward. They're all dressed formally, but it isn't to the (sometimes) ludicrous standards Thor returns with—really, who needs  _that_ much armor?

Bruce offers a huff in response.

Clint lightly nudges the scientist with his elbow, "It's only for a few days" He reminds. A few long  _Asgardian_ days of trying not to feel like an idiot and failing anyway. Whoo. Thrilling. Tony's jumping for joy in the prospect of this. He bites on his tongue to hold back his rousing show of pessimism.

Steve turns on the couch, opening his mouth to say something, but never gets a chance. Instead, Thor enters the room dressed in his usual battle propaganda and his hair swept back and combed. Compared to the spiky mess he's been modeling recently, it looks odd. Clean.

Thor pauses, gaining their stares. He rocks on his feet, fidgeting uncomfortably, "Are you prepared to leave?" He asks. He sounds admittedly hopeful that they  _aren't._ Tony's lips thin with this realization.

He has never seen Thor more reluctant to do anything, honestly, if Tony didn't know better he'd say his teammate was being dragged off to his execution. What is wrong?

"Yeah, I think so." Steve assures, then tilts his head slightly, apparently spotting the same thing that Tony has and shares a quick glance with him. "...Are you?"

Thor blinks, pauses as if re-focusing to the present and then turns to look at the super soldier. He looks exhausted, worn through and beyond ready for the day to end so he can climb under a pile of blankets and not move for several hours. Instead of admitting this, Thor simply clenches his fists next to his side and inclines his head. "Yes, of course."

Really? Because it doesn't really look like that. All evidence points contrary. Nonetheless.

Thor closes his eyes and release a breath before moving forward, "Come, Heimdall is waiting." Heimdall—he actually knows that name. He's a glorified butler or some sort of gatekeeping-watcher-man from what Tony's managed to put together.

He's long since learned to stop trusting Norse mythology since Agent Hill walked up to Thor and demanded to know if he was married to at least three different women. It had, unfortunately, been in the cafeteria and Thor had snorted the water he was drinking up his nose and stared at the agent in all seriousness asking what the names of his wives were. He'd spent the next ten minutes debunking any myths she told him off, laughing to the point he couldn't breathe (no, the goddess of the dead actually exist, no his father did not trade his eye for wisdom, his mother have the gift of prophecy or he himself married). So yeah, Tony's long since accepted that the person who wrote down the myths was probably drunk.

Tony shifts forward with the rest of his team and takes his pack from off the ground, swinging it across his shoulders and pats down his pocket to make sure his phone is still present before trekking after Thor. The Asgardian leads them up the stairs and to the landing pad where the Quinjet usually parked is absent (maintenance, they recently went on a mission to disassemble a HYDRA base and their canons got a few good shots in). The stone was white when the tower was first finished, but has been burned, charred, and branded from the Bifrost and the Quinjet. No amount of scrubbing is going to remove it; it used to bother him, but after so much time with it present, he'd doesn't think he could stand if it went missing.

Thor comes to a halt towards the outer edge of the burn mark from the Bifrost and the rest of them scramble into the remaining space. "You are all prepared for a week?" Thor questions. Tony makes a hum of agreement and the rest of the team makes noises of assurance.

Thor nods and digs his fingernails into his palms before flipping his head up towards the sky, "Good. Heimdall, open the Bifrost!"

The ground is ripped from his feet and his stomach lurches, the urge to fall forward claiming him for half a second before he's torn upwards through the sky. A quiet noise is lost in his throat at the high speed colors swirling past him. He's seen the Bifrost deliver and take Thor dozens of times, but it's different in person. Faster. Brighter. Louder. Honestly, it's deafening, blistering into his ears like the phosphorescent is attempting to burn his earlobes shut. Worlds blur past his vision, open space half a step behind, but it's impossible to focus on anything.

The journey itself doesn't last more than thirty seconds tops, but it feels like milliseconds and years simultaneously.

Tony's feet hit the ground and he stumbles forward, barely managing to regain his footing before he slams flat onto his face. Neither of the rest of his teammates fair much better than himself other than Thor. He lands with perfect ease like a ballerina landing a leap. It's ridiculous and Tony quietly envies his grace.

The room they've stumbled into is large, circular with a golden ceiling and walls make out of gears. It looks like some sort rich clocktower, sans a clock. Behind a large dais in the center is the glistening golden city in the distance, a palace clearly visible overreaching the smaller buildings, save the floating ones ( _floating),_  but to connect to the clocktower a large brightly colored bridge stretching between the two pieces of land.

It's impressive.

And big.

Very big.

"Welcome home, my prince." Tony flicks his gaze back to the dais, startled at the sudden deep voice. He'd missed it his first glance, but there's a man perched on the top of the stairs, gripping the hilt of a sword covered in panoply that could rival Thor's. A stupid, frankly ridiculously viking-like hat is present on the top of his head and  _wow_ suddenly Loki's goat horns seem fashionable. Okay, not to self: Asgard does not have hat fashion sense.

"Thank you Heimdall," Thor address curtly and turns to glance back at them. Tony forces his footing to settle and quietly begs the lurching in his stomach to stop. Heimdall turns his gaze from Thor to them and Tony suddenly feels largely uncomfortable. Heimdall's deep yellow eyes seem to dig through his soul parsing through what remains there and is displeased with what he finds. It makes him want to put his arms in front of his chest defensively, but he's pretty certain it wouldn't help anything.

"Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanov, welcome to Asgard." Heimdall says and gives a slight dip of his head of respect and turns his head towards the doorway. Apparently, whatever test they were undergoing they passed. Tony wants to say something in return, but he's not exactly sure what would be acceptable.

Instead he settles for a small, awkward wave as they scramble after Thor.

The Asgardian prince slips from the clocktower-thing to the glittery bridge. Thor stops abruptly, causing the rest of them to scramble over the edges of their shoes to not smack into his back, a man appearing to materialize out of seemingly nowhere. He's taller than Thor by a good few inches, bulky, and covered in light armor with a bow and arrow strapped across his chest. Fiery red hair is tucked back, a thin shade of facial hair covering around his lips and mouth.

Natasha's hand goes to her hip where a small dagger is hidden in the frays of her dress, but Steve lifts a slight hand to halt her. This isn't their turf, they can't determine what needs to be leaped at and what does not here. They are fish attempting to swim up a tree. It's unpleasant.

The man's hand is resting on his hip and he raises a thick red eyebrow towards Thor. "You're late."

"Sorry," Thor stumbles out, "preparations took longer than I expected." No, he was stalling so he wouldn't have to come back here for reasons that they are still oblivious to. Thor turns back to them, looking strangely desperate, "Avengers, this is Ullr; he is the captain of my guard."

Thor has a  _guard?_

He's prince, Tony, you idiot, what  _else_ were you expecting?

...Not that?

"Ullr, this is the Avengers."

Captain Ullr's eyebrows lift slightly and he tilts his head, gaze sweeping across them. His lip curls slightly. "Yes, I assumed so." The way he states it says his opinion of them clearly, which is nothing along the realms of impressed. Disgust or them somehow being lesser would be more accurate.

Tony flicks his gaze to the right as he sees another figure move and sees three others waiting next to five horses. One of the three is leading a deep gray horse forward with a thick, wild black mane is braided in a few areas.

The man comes to a halt with the reins outstretched to Thor, who takes them without reluctance, resting a hand against the horses muzzle. "Victory has been restless with your presence lacking, my prince." The man says.

Thor smiles faintly, "Thank you, Tolk."

"Should we be on our way then?" Captain Ullr asks, gesturing towards the horses and the palace awaiting in the distance. "Your father is waiting."

If Tony hadn't known Thor as well as he does, he would have missed the shoulder slump completely. As it is, he notes it and narrows his eyes slightly.

"I think I would prefer to walk," Thor says and glances back at them once more. "This is their first time in Asgard; there is much to see."

Captain Ullr's eyes narrow slightly, but he nods, "Indeed."

Thor mimics the head movement, but Tony sees slightly relief in his stance. Thor adjusts the grip on his horse's reins before leading them forward into the city.

The first thing that Tony really processes about Asgard is that it's  _bright_ —towering tips of twinkling gold shower everything, causing the light from the two suns to reflect and make it brighter. No area appears to be somber, but graced in beauty and craftsmanship unknown to Earth. The buildings in the city are simply breathtaking, and it sort of feels like they've taken a step back in time to Greece.

It's amazing.

Tony does, however, feel immediately awkward compared to the other people among them. They're all dressed in formal attire: elaborate dresses, weird but fancy tunics, and capes. Capes are everywhere. Tony has never been fond of capes, his version is wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and walking around somewhere, so he doesn't understand the fashion trend. There are people that he can see are natives by their hair and clothing style, but there are also others that he knows have to have come from somewhere else.

It's sort of like stepping into _Lord of the Rings_ , but in Asgard. Dwarves are wondering around, laughing and violently speaking in a dialect that Tony can't understand. There are elves and other weird-looking people wandering around. He's fairly certain that he spotted someone growing horns like Maleficent and though he's surprised, it just adds to the overwhelming need to gawk at everything.

Asgard is much different than he was expecting.

More advanced.

For some reason he'd sort of been expecting to walk onto Asgard there to be random huts in a large valley with rainbow bridges linking between things and unicorns running around as women fly pegasus' and men run around shouting and throw things. Instead, it's a beautiful world, for certain, (towering mountain ranges in the distance and the stars in the distance are breathtaking) but it's much more...science based.

Tony presses his lips together tightly and keeps up with Thor's rapid pace, attempting to not lose the Asgardian. His team seems to be just as amazed and struggling to not stop and stare as he is. Thor moves rapidly through the city, his presence—along with his guard—seem to part the sea of people with ease. Some of them toss out greetings in a language that Tony can't place, or give respective small bows.

It's a stark reminder that despite how...normal and citizen-like Thor is on Earth, he is, in fact, the crown prince of another world. And not one looked down upon, at that.

They reach the palace in about thirty minutes and Tony is immediately graced with the realization as they step into the courtyard that the golden building is much bigger in person than it looked from a distance. Not to say that it  _looked_  miniature from afar—quite the contrary—but still, it's  _large._ Perfectly sculpted without a single scratch on it, smooth metal rising up towards the sky. It's breathtaking, just like the rest of the city.

And Thor happily stares out at their messy, dirty buildings with awe.

This is very different from Earth.

Admittedly, he's not quite certain how he feels about this.

The courtyard isn't empty. People are rushing here and there carrying things from once place to another, most of them in a similar colored wardrobe (red, cream, gold and sometimes deep green). A type of uniform, maybe?

Thor hands his horses' reins to the youngest man in his guard—Tolk, was it?—and he quickly slips off to the northern part of the expansive courtyard where Tony can see a towering stable in the distance. Towards their left is a large fence that looks like it could be from a horror movie. Twisted, thorny plants sculpt up the metal and blossom a grayish-brown flower that could be a cross between a daisy and a rose. Frankly, Tony thinks they're rather ugly. The wall takes up a large part of the further part of the courtyard and extends for some time. Off to their right is training grounds where men are being yelled at and swinging weapons around that are buzzing.

Buzzing.

Electricity?

It doesn't quite look like that. Magic, then?

"I apologize," Thor says and looks back at them, his lips thinned and expression a carefully constructed mask. Tony flicks his gaze up with surprise at the sound of his voice; thus far in their great journey across Asgard, he hasn't said much. Just greetings back to those who spoke to him and a few quick words with Captain Ullr. His voice sounds tight, "we don't have time for the questions I know you must have. Perhaps later."

They better have time for later.

Tony wants to take everything that's floating around them and tear it apart to see how it works, internalize the technology then move onto the next object. This is amazing.

"Mmm, yes," Captain Ullr says, "we best remove these...Avengers from our party. You have much to attend to, my prince. You're...ah, what do we call it? Vacation time? Yes, it hasn't exactly put a dent in your duties."

Thor's fists clench.

Tony's stomach squirms uncomfortably. He never really thought about what Thor was giving up to help them. It didn't seem important. Thor never spoke about it—but that doesn't mean that's an adequate excuse, Thor is his teammate, if he's giving something up like  _this_  (crown prince, his mind reminds,  _crown prince_ ) to help them whack Dr. Doom over the head every other Thursday or whatever other idiot decided that they needed to smack down Manhattan that week  _they should have known._

He shares an anxious glance with Bruce, quietly relieved he doesn't appear to be the only one unsettled here.

Why didn't Thor say anything?

"I would like to help them find their rooms—" Thor starts to explain, but his words are hesitant and sound strangely jumbled, as if he's not certain what he's saying will be well received. It's not a habit that Tony's seen him use much. Thor's baritone is usually confidant and laced with laughter; this is devoid of such characteristics.

"Prince Thor," Captain Ullr sighs, "please, the King is waiting for us."

Thor's chin tilts up slightly, a turbulence of emotions crossing over his features before he appears to slump with defeat. He releases a breath and turns to look at them, "Yes, you are right; forgive me, Avengers."

_'Avengers'?_

Really?

They're at that now?

Tony can't remember the last time that that Thor referred to them as that. Years, probably, if _ever._  They've always just been "friends" or something else along those lines. Nothing this formal. Ever. Why would he, they're...friends. Just, apparently not here. Tony can't say this leaves him with the most happy butterfly feelings.

Thor turns and waves them after him, moving towards the entrance of the palace. Tony rocks on his feet for a second, suddenly wary, but moves after his teammate. Thor leads them into the palace to a grand entry hall that is working pretty hard to make stone show a reflection from the cleanliness.

They take a few steps into the building before a young man walks towards them, expression collected, calm. "Greetings, my lord," he says, but Thor appears to wind tighter at his presence. How far can he go before he snaps altogether? What is it about Asgard that makes him so anxious? "Your mother sends her apologies that she couldn't be here to see your return."

"Yes," Thor murmurs, but his voice is barely above a quiet sigh. He turns back to them, his gaze flicking briefly to Ullr once more before grasping Steve's—who is the closest—shoulder, "this is Akeh, he can show you to your accommodations, I'll try to stop by later."

Natasha's shaking her head, and Tony turns to her for an explanation. "No; we can wait, Thor. Do you have to visit your father alone?"

Thor gives a shake of his head, but his gaze is tinted with confusion.

"Good," Natasha says, "can we join you, then?"

Thor's stance visibly releases strain at the suggestion, and he appears to leap onto it with both hands and refuse to let go, even as Captain Ullr makes a noise in the back of his throat that can't be anything but disapproval.

"Yes," Thor agrees, "yes, you can." He releases Steve's shoulder and sweeps his gaze across them, appearing to gather himself. He nods once to himself before waving a hand for them to follow, "Come, we shouldn't keep my father waiting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave your thoughts if you're comfortable doing so! ;)
> 
> Chapter two should be posted on March 1. I'm going to aim for every-other week updates, but I need a little bit of time to write ahead, so until then!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha! Look is early? It's me! =)
> 
> Thank you so much for your feedback! You're amazing! I am so grateful to have you as readers! =) Hugs!
> 
> Just as a note, because of the way the story sort of fell together, the chapters are extensively long. Given this, there's going to be five or less in the story total, so we're halfway to the end! =)
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing!
> 
> Warnings: Some descriptions of child neglect, overall nastiness from a few characters, and an brief anxiety attack. Take care of yourselves, loves. :)

* * *

 

The throne room is large and spacious; open ceilings lifting up for a good twenty feet supported by golden pillars spreading down from the roof to the floor. Light spills between windows, but they're shaded giving the room a faint lighting. Asgardians didn't seem to go all out on decoration on the actual columns themselves, because they're almost painfully bland compared to the city outside. Tapestries hang from the ceiling as well, covering windows instead of draperies. They depict what Tony's pretty sure are significant events in history; he see can about four with Thor present, one on the right side towards the very end that Tony recognizes as the battle of New York. He and the rest of the Avengers are also present interwoven between the fabric.

The lack of natural lighting along with the dozens of columns create a boxed-in effect that Tony doesn't find very pleasant. He prefers open spaces, and he can't stand rooms without windows after Afghanistan; yeah, glass is a pain to replace when whatever super villain of the month decides they need to raze Avengers Tower to the ground, but at least he doesn't feel like he's suffocating.

The rest of the the palace seemed to be open and inviting—that Tony has seen so far—but this room just seems to swallow all the happiness like a dementor from  _Harry Potter_ and spit it back out.

It isn't something that he's very appreciative of. Or like, you know, has any admiration for at all.

As their party passes through the large doors ( _why_ do people make doors so enormous, it seems inconvenient and hard to replace) Captain Ullr and the other three that Tony still doesn't have names to, come to a halt outside standing next to the two other men.

Once the six of them are inside, the doors are pulled shut behind them, making a loud  _thump_ and removes any of the remaining daylight casting the room into shadows save the dim light from bowls filled with flame placed precariously in the room. Whoever was in charge of lighting should be fired because they did a terrible job.

Thor's fists clench in and out rapidly like he's gripping hot coals as he strides down the long, reflective floor. Their footsteps echo on the polished marble and the nagging feeling that they, being from Earth, do not belong here is like a physical punch to the gut.

At the end of the marble floor is a staircase leading up towards a throne that seems to glow slightly. Behind the throne is two doors leading to...somewhere that Tony can really only speculate on. For some reason, he's pretty sure that wandering around and opening doors would be frowned upon. Sitting on the throne is an old man dressed in elaborate armor, modeling one of the ugly helmets and gripping a staff-thing that looks significant. Tony assumes this is Thor's father, King Odin.

Thor reaches last step and rests Mjolnir on the ground before bending to one knee, pressing a fist over his heart and bowing his head. Awkwardly, the rest of them follow suit. Tony really has no idea what he's doing and just hopes that Thor does. "I have returned, Father." Thor says after a few seconds of silence.

"I can see that my son, I'm not yet fully blind," King Odin says and Thor's posture further clenches before the old king makes a noise, "But still. At long last."

Thor lifts his head slightly, "I…" He trails, clearly attempting to gather his thoughts together. "Was caught up in business."

"On Midgard?" King Odin scoffs loudly and raises to his feet, "Of that I have doubts."

Tony's slightly offended. Was that meant to be offensive?

"Thor," King Odin reaches the last step and rests a hand on his shoulder, "you have duties here that are more important that anything you can conjure on that realm. You know this. It is time to end these charades of your own importance; Midgard has no need of the Thunderer. I am disappointed in you, son; something I have spent a great deal of time doing as of late."

Thor flinches.

 _Whoa._ Okay, hang on—

Thor bows his head, though his stance is still taut, "Forgive me, Father."

King Odin's lips thin behind his beard, "We will wait to see if you deserve it."

Thor releases a soft breath and King Odin liberates his shoulder, his blue eye sweeping up to stare at all of them. There's nothing quite as disorienting as being stared at by a one-eyed man, Tony's not quite sure what it  _is_ about them that makes it feel as though the soul is being tested, but Fury and King Odin have it down to an art.

Tony sees Bruce shift, uncomfortable under the brief flicker of the king's gaze before he turns to Thor, "Who are these mortals you have brought with you?" Exasperation clouds his stance, "Thor, honestly, I swear if this another attempt to sway me towards Miss Foster—"

Thor's head whips up quickly and Tony can see the barest edge of embarrassment in his face. "No, it is not," Thor assures, "Father, these are the Avengers."

King Odin's eye widens and his entire figure seems to shift abruptly from cold and angered to warm and inviting. Tony hadn't even realized that he  _was_  being cold until the warmth of King Odin's stare lands on them. "Ah, of course!" He says, his voice laced with enthusiasm. "My apologies, great heroes of Midgard; please, rise,"

Tony warily does so; admittedly, he'd be lying to say that he isn't off put by the change in character. It's like the Santa Clause part of King Odin was suddenly reawakened after a deep sleep. It's weird. He bites at his tongue to keep himself from saying anything stupid and watches King Odin carefully.

"I apologize for the abruptness of the invitation, had Thor been here sooner, we could have had you better prepared. Thank you for coming with such haste." Odin greets, resting his staff against the ground with a dull  _clicking_ noise.

Steve's gaze flicks towards Thor for a second, his eyes narrowing a minuscule amount as they arrive on King Odin, "No worries, Your Highness; it wasn't an inconvenience, we're humbled by your invitation."

And startled, admittedly.

King Odin nods slightly and turns towards Thor once more, "Yes. Thor, take these great heroes to their rooms, you and I will discuss your insubordination later."

Thor slumps slightly, but rises to his feet and gives a slight dip of his head, "Of course Father. Send Mother my regards."

Odin humphs in response and Thor turns towards them his expression filled with wide-eyed anxiety. "Come," he says and waves his hand for them to follow, moving towards the exit of the room. They stumble after him, and Tony is more than happy when the doors open releasing sunlight into his face again. The air feels less sharp in the hallway, not as dark, lacking the recycled stale taste that it can be reduced to given enough time.

Tony inhales it happily then turns his attention to Thor. King Odin is...different than he was expecting. Thor is such a warm and inviting person, so Tony would be lying to admit that he wasn't expecting the same from his father. Or at least the smallest bit of joy. Instead he just seemed cold and indifferent with a tinge of continuous exasperation. Isn't Asgard supposed to be some blissful place where no one is ever unhappy? They have a  _rainbow bridge,_ for pete's sake. But Thor's never spoken about it like that, and Tony's interpretation is coming solely from arbitrary.

Captain Ullr and the three others slide away from their positions standing next to the doors and begin to trail them. It's annoying. Tony can't ask Thor the questions he  _really_ would like to unless they're out of earshot of those prying and he doesn't trust Thor's guard not to go happily skipping down the streets revealing the details of the conversation. They're nice enough, he supposes, if a little gruff around the edges, but it isn't like Happy. There is no friendship that Tony can see between Thor and Ullr.

"Did all go over well, my prince?" Captain Ullr asks, his tone conversational, but not interested.

"Well enough." Thor answers, he's quiet for a second then: "...Have the delegations from Alfheim arrived?"

Alfheim? That's another planet, right? Tony's mind scrambles before he manages to link context to the word. It's the Norse mythological land for the elves. Tony saw elves in the city or at least sharply edged ear-d people. Is it rude to point that out?

Captain Ullr seems to skip a step, but regains his composure so quickly that Tony's fairly certain he imagined it. The Aesir rests a hand on the sword strapped to his belt. "Indeed, Your Highness."

Thor gives a brisk nod and then pauses when they stop to turn down a hallway. He glances back at his guard, "If you would give us a moments' time of privacy, it would be most welcomed."

Captain Ullr hesitates, eyes sweeping across the rest of them as if mistrusting. This is a relief. Tony finds it a slightly warming fact that he doesn't just throw up his hands and declares that "sure, that sounds great", but doesn't trust his prince with complete strangers. At least, strangers to  _him._ None of them would dream of hurting Thor on purpose, and would happily sever the hand of anyone else who tries. Thor is perfectly safe with them, but Captain Ullr's pause does make his growing dislike and generally not nice thoughts for Asgard wane.

"My prince, I am not certain—" Captain Ullr begins, but Thor rests a hand on his shoulder.

"They have been my companions for years, I trust them with my life. Please, go assist where it is needed I will be fine." Thor promises and releases the man. Captain Ullr lingers a moment more before giving a slight nod and turns to the three others gathered.

"Come, we will find Mistress Freya and see where she wants our service." The captain announces and they quickly move down the hall and out of earshot. The remaining space is empty save themselves. Thor, at last, turns to look at them expectantly.

"I know you have questions, but I'd rather do this privately." He explains. He appears to think on the words for half a second then hastily adds: "Not that I do not trust my guard, I do, but they are not...I don't...Asgard does not bare high respect for Midgardians and social status is regarded highly here. You do not want to be seen as fools. Trust me." There's a thinly darker part of his voice laced into his sentence and his eyes hold the truth behind his statements.

"Alright." Steve agrees. Thor waves them forward.

"I'll explain as we move towards your rooms. My father has given me this small mercy before I'll be pulled every which way until the feast tonight." Thor says. Right. Feasts. That's great. Um. Wait. Tonight. Did they just arrive in the morning of Asgard? Because Tony's going to be a little bummed about the fact that he missed out on sleep.

"It's morning?" Bruce questions and Tony is quietly relieved that he isn't the only one who just put two and two together. It doesn't equal four. It equals tired. Tony has vicious insomnia on his best days, but that doesn't mean he  _likes_ it.

"Yes." Thor admits, "There is nothing going on in the day that you need to attend; I was thinking you could sleep now and I'll awaken you later before we need to be gathered in the Great Hall."

Ah.

"And what about tonight?" Natasha questions, "I can go a few days without sleep, but it's not something I really want to try here."

Thor smiles thinly, "You will be exhausted enough to sleep through the night. Trust me."

Tony almost feels like they're preparing for battle, not a party. Does Thor honestly go to all his celebrations like this? It must be exhausting. Tony really has no desire to throw anything together any time soon anymore.

Their silent a moment, processing and Thor takes a sharp right turn, nearly causing Tony to ram face first into a column with surprise. On a second glance, it's not a column but a large statue of a man holding a spear. It's lining the halls. Huh. Yeah, okay, on a first look they didn't look like feet.

No one voices any other questions, so Tony takes it as a prime time to ask one of his. The current one pouring into his brain refuses to come anything but first: "Um, yeah, great. So age. Explain how that works. If your moving planets back and forth—I know you said that your people do die of old age—but like, can't you theoretically become immortal by keeping the max limit of time you can live to a minimal by planet jumping?"

Thor's shakes his head and frowns slightly, "No.  _Time_ passes at a different rate, we don't age faster or slower depending on where we are," Thor pauses, gathering his thoughts then appends: "think of Earth's time zones. You can go backwards and forwards in time, theoretically, but you'll still be aging at the same rate. You can't stop yourself from turning twenty or thirty by going back and forth between time zones. It's like that. I can't stop the rate my body ages just by being somewhere else, I only affect  _when_ I am."

Oh. Yeah, okay that makes much more sense than the weird time-loop-hole theory that Tony will give no details to, but was a mess of jumbled, broken physics.

"Who is Mistress Freya?" Bruce questions, jumping topics abruptly. Mistress…? Oh, right. Captain Ullr mentioned her.

Thor huffs quietly, "My aunt."

_His what?_

Thor has an  _aunt?_

Tony's mother had a sister who died when Tony was very young before she had children and Howard was an only child, so he never had family save Peggy when he reached seventeen. Peggy's memory started getting hopeless by the time he was in his mid-twenties, so family ties were pretty much severed after that. The rest of his team is basically the same save Clint, whose brother is in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody. It's weird to think of Thor having parents, aunts, uncles—just other family beyond Loki. Tony  _knew_ he had a living mother and father, but it's strange that other extended family exists as well.

Thor sees their confused stares and shrugs. "My mother is from Vanaheim, when she and my father were married, she was allowed to bring her guard, and her ladies and waiting from her homeworld. One of which was her sister. She has lived in the palace as long as I can remember as my mother's personal aid. When such celebrations like these arise, she is put in charge. Or  _puts_ herself in charge, I have never been able to determine which."

Kind of sounds like Pepper's mother. She was not much fun for his and Pepper's marriage. Sometimes no matter how nice the display is, it just doesn't go with the theme. (Not that he and Pepper really  _had_ a theme, Tony was more than happy with the almost hopelessly private and plain celebration that occurred. It was a beautiful moment between him and his stunning wife and everyone in the whole world didn't need to see it, thank you very much).

"Fun." Clint says dryly.

Thor makes a noise of agreement.

"The buildings outside," Tony questions and gestures vaguely towards one of the floating ones, "is that electricity or magic?"

Thor glances at it, "It's a power source, not a building. Raw electricity is taken from the air and transferred into something we can use. It is held in place by sorcery, however. The ones over there," Thor gestures out towards smaller square box-looking things. "They capture light. We don't use magic as a powersource if we can avoid it. It's not easy to contain or transfer into a usable form, we use it to  _aid_ the gathering and bend it to what we need, but as a source itself: no."

Huh.

Okay.

"I can see space from here." Steve notes, "Why?"

Thor's lips thin. "Asgard is old. Your mythology only extends it to my great-great grandfather, I believe, but it is eons older than that. It was once a world as spherical as your own, but it underwent a collapse in it's core. More than half the planet was lost to the destruction, but Asgard called on allies—they  _were_ allies at the time—to freeze the melting iron into crystals to keep what remained steady. What you're seeing is the remaining planet that through pressure flattened over time. We still have an atmosphere, gravity, liquid water and such, but it just runs differently than Earth."

"Can I ask a less science-based question?" Clint asks as Tony stares hard towards the horizon. The sky is blue with clouds floating through it, but towards the edges of the sky Tony can see the stars like Steve was saying. The atmosphere appears to wane towards the edges of the ground, but isn't lost completely. To anyone looking at Asgard from that angle, it would appear to have a giant hole in the middle. From space, it probably looks like a cloudy midst on the top. He doesn't know what frozen liquid magma looks like, but that is probably hanging off of the bottom giving it the look of a haze with a running nose.

Poetic.

"Do you have a seating chart? For the feast, I mean." Clint asks, snapping Tony back to the present.

Thor's lips thin with thought. "I am not certain of the details, but I imagine that as you are among the High Guests, you will sit with me and my kin." Joy. They get to have the whole  _dinner_ with King Odin boring down on them? And Thor's relatives. Tony hates having meals with relatives of people he knows, it's awkward and unpleasant. Thor holds Clint's gaze steady for a moment. "Married couples are not split at the table. It is considered rude to get between companions bound for eternity together."

Both ex-assassin's visibly slump with relief. Tony hides a smirk at the action and quietly wonders yet again why they waited nearly five years before  _actually_  getting united in wedlock. Then again, he's not exactly one to talk. But it was only three years. Not five.

"Good." Clint says firmly and glances at Natasha fondly.

Tony rolls his eyes, "If you're going to kiss, can it wait? We're kind of busy at the moment."

Thor releases a huff of amusement and a small worm of pride swims through his veins. Thor hasn't laughed or really smiled once since yesterday and seeing him so sullen makes Tony wish they could leave.

But they can't.

And nothing Tony does it going to change that fact.

000o000

They arrive in the rooms fairly quickly and though Tony has more money than he really knows what to do with on Earth, he's honestly afraid to touch anything for fear of breaking it. The rooms are more homely, without the golden paint smeared over everything, but rather there's a steady brick-like texture to them. Large windows take on one of the smaller walls allowing natural daylight to flow across them.

Tony makes quick work of the bed and doesn't awaken until Thor appears once more when the two suns have long since faded into the sky. He manages to clean himself up in less than five minutes (a lifetime of being followed by cameras has that effect) so he and his teammates are gathered and walking towards the Great Hall in less than ten.

Thor's clothing looks a little more rumbled, but still surprisingly clean.

They walk in silence for nearly ten minutes working through the large palace before Natasha, who has slipped ahead with Clint, rams face first into someone. She stumbles backwards making a noise of surprise and Clint is immediately at her side to steady her as the rest of them scramble towards her position.

"Watch where you're walking, woman!" A older male voice snaps. Tony sweeps his gaze across him; he's sporting white hair cropped short around his face and bearing the insignia that Tony has come to associate with the royal family: a bird taking flight.

"I'm sorry," Natasha says, though she sounds more surprised that truly apologetic.

The man turns to Thor and his eyes narrow, "Nephew! What on the Nine do you think you're doing slipping these—these  _mortals_ into our great halls? Are you trying to embarrass your father further?"

Wait.

Nephew.

This man is Thor's  _uncle?_

Surprise, Thor has  _way_ more living relatives than Tony previously thought. What's next? The sister they didn't know about?

"No," Thor's patience is thin, "Father invited them, they are the Avengers, Uncle Vili."

Vili's eyes shift slightly from hard to slight respect and surprise before returning to cold. "Well, clumsy lot aren't they?"

Thor's fists clench, "If you want to persist your complaints take it up with me  _privately."_

Vili's eyes light slightly and his head tilts a wicked smirk stretching across his lips. "Privately, eh? Like how you  _privately_ took up a head at of the traitors?"

Traitors.

What?

What the heck is he  _talking_ about?

Thor's lips thin considerably, but his demeanor is anxious as well as furious, "There has been no proof to condemn me of such actions! Why does everyone insist that I was there?"

Vili snorts, "Well that may be the case,  _I know what you did, boy_."

"What?" Bruce questions, turning to look at Thor, "I don't understand, what is he talking about?"

Yeah, him and Tony both.

Thor's jaw clenches, "A topic for later."

Vili turns to them, eyes alight suddenly and a smile stretching up his lips as if he's delighted, "You haven't  _told_ them?" He clicks his tongue, "Oh, Thor, you never were much of a team player, but even  _you_ would know better than to withhold such information."

What?

_What information?_

What are they talking about!?

"I believe that is quite enough, Lord Vili." A female voice declares. Tony flicks his gaze up to see a blonde woman walking towards them. She's young, early twenties, Tony would guess, but it's hard to gauge with Asgardians. Her blonde hair is drawn up in an elaborate bun with curls hanging out and the dress she's wearing is green and white with leaf designs being the common theme. A simple circlet hangs on her forehead, but her whole presence radiates someone of importance. Her accent is thick, something that sounds remarkably close to British, but has faint traces of Scottish.

Thor's stance relaxes visibly when he sees her, something akin to surprise in his eyes.

Vili turns to the woman, his expression leaping into a sneer, "And the prodigal princess returns at last. Tell me, dear, are you proud of the legacy that your  _beloved_ left behind?"

Her head moves slightly in a way that promises bodily harm and she comes to a stop next to Thor, before she makes a noise in her throat, "My Lord, do you really want to test me?"

The two hold a hard stare before Vili blinks and smiles faintly, "Oh, not at all, Your  _Highness_ ; carry on with your business, perhaps Thor will admit his treachery to you." With that stated, Vili slips away from them, head held up high and looking strongly pleased. It really only makes Tony's desire to smack him rise further.

The woman quietly sighs and turns to Thor then sweeps her gaze over him for a second, "You cut your hair."

"Indeed."

"I don't like it."

She smiles faintly before Thor embraces her, "It has been far to long, Sigyn." He says softly. The woman, Sigyn, murmurs something to him in Asgard's native tongue before pulling back and turning to look at them, gray eyes edged with steal, but not unwelcoming. It's then that Tony realizes that her ears are tipped. Elf. She's an elf.

Right then.

Thor turns to them, "My friends, this is Princess Sigyn Alvi of Alfheim." There's a momentary pause before: "She is my sister-in-law."

Tony feels his jaw slip and intakes sharply with surprise. Sister-in…But for that to be the case, that means...Thor may have more than a handful of aunts and uncles he's kept from them, but they  _have_ asked about siblings before and Thor's only sibling is Loki so that means…

_That means…_

"You're Loki's wife?" Tony blurts and at the look she sends him, he nearly slams his hand over his mouth like a child having been caught saying a bad word. It's not angry, nor the wish-them-harm-with-your-eyes stare she was giving Vili, just exhausted. And strangely upset.

"Yes." Sigyn says simply.

Okay.

Um.

Yeah.

So that's a thing.

Their marriage must have been fun. She's probably grateful that Loki's in prison. Tony's always known that his marriage would be precious after watching his parent's fall further and further apart throughout his childhood, and he pities her for having to deal with Loki as a husband. People don't decide to go conqueror cities that ends up killing thousands overnight. But Tony can't imagine Loki  _being_ anything other than the ego-centric ball of sass that he flaunted on Earth. Their marriage must have  _really_ sucked.

Was it arranged? What is he asking, it was more than likely arranged. Tony can't see anyone agreeing to wed  _Loki_ of all people  _willingly._  He knows that Thor bares some remaining sediment for his sibling, but Tony just doesn't like him. He reminds him a little to strongly of how he used to be before Afghanistan and replaying memories of that time is painful and unwelcoming.

Tony clears his throat slightly to force himself to focus on right now and can see his teammates processing the reveal with about the same confusion as himself save Thor. Clint's lips thin tightly and his fingers twitch at his side as if he wants to lean forward and pat her on the shoulder, but he instead settles on: "I'm sorry."

Sigyn's eyes narrow slightly. "Whatever for, my lord?"

Clint stares blankly at her. "I can't imagine that marriage to a psychopath was exactly your dream goal in life."

Tony would be a little concerned about her mental state if it was.

Sigyn presses her lips together and shares a quick glance with Thor. "Thank you for your commiseration." Sigyn murmurs softly.

"Come, we are nearly there." Thor says and offers his elbow to his sister-in-law. She makes an exasperated face at him before taking it and they begin the trek forward again. They weren't talking before Vili's arrival, but the sudden silence seems almost electrified with a tense energy. It's not exactly pleasant, but there's nothing Tony can really do to stop it.

They arrive at the Great Hall about two minutes later, joining a cluster of men and women walking into the room. The entrance is tunneled by guards standing on either side with expressions stoic and forward. It looks like an intense staring contest and Tony doesn't really want to know who is winning.

Two large doors are opened leading into the enclosed space. This room, such as the throne room, has no windows, but is brightly lit casting the illusions of natural daylight. A large chandelier hangs from the high ceiling with candles positioned like the palace.

Long tables are set into rows vertically on the edges of the room and there's one set at the front horizontally. The tablecloths are elaborate and something that Pepper would probably like to look at, but something Tony personally doesn't really care for. Thor guides them through the mass of crowd that gives respective tips of their heads to the horizontal table.

Sitting in the center of the table is King Odin and a woman on his right. Long golden hair is streaming down her back with the front pieces curled next to her head. The propaganda on her person doesn't hide the exhaustion in her eyes, nor covers the dark shadows beneath them. Tony assumes this is Queen Frigga.

Vili is on Odin's left, and another blonde woman beside him. A handful of older other people are present, but as they reach the table everyone but the King and Queen rise to their feet. Sigyn releases Thor's arm and moves to stand beside one of the graying men, but Thor guides them to the other side of the table beside the queen. He takes the seat next to his mother and the rest of them adjust accordingly to the little name cards placed on the plates. The script is almost impossible to determine and Tony is once again reminded why he hates cursive.

Tony ends up beside Thor, Bruce beside him, then Natasha and Clint with Steve at the end.

He's also across Sigyn, who, with the rest of the table take their seats after Thor and the rest of them have. Tony is terrible at formal events and he feels drastically uncomfortable. This is no different. In fact, despite the fact that Sigyn is in front of him and taking the brunt of the staring with the back of her head, Tony still feels like every eye in the room is locked onto him.

"Good eve, Mother." Thor says quietly and Tony turns his head to them. Queen Frigga lifts her head up slightly to look at him, glazed eyes focusing slightly.

"And to you, Dearheart," she murmurs in greeting, then turns her gaze across the rest of the table as if having been shaken from a dream. It lingers for a fraction on himself and the team, before flinging across the rest of the table. It does, widen, however, when it lands on Sigyn.

"Sigyn." Queen Frigga greets with surprise, her voice slightly more energized, "I had no idea you would be permitted to return to Asgard for this. How are you, darling?"

" _Permitted to return"?_

What is that supposed to mean?

Tony knows very little about Asgard's laws, but he's pretty sure that in order to get banished you need to do something incredibly stupid and destruction-y. Thor broke a treaty and only returned because Loki was plotting...something. Tony still doesn't know the full details about what happened, only that it ended with Loki falling into deep space. It's a memory that clearly pains Thor, though.  _Anyway,_ Sigyn and Loki were— _are_ they  _are_ married, so she had to live here, right? Thor mentioned that he hadn't seen her in a while, but a "while" to Asgardians could easily be decades. Maybe marrying a psychopath  _was_ her end goal in life.

"Well enough." Sigyn answers. "I have had little time to be bored as of the late."

Queen Frigga nods with understanding, "Yes. Treaty signing is coming up again on Alfheim, isn't it?"

"With all but Asgard." The man beside Sigyn answers. He too, bares the thick British/Scottish. "And it's already begun. We're hoping that negotiations this century with Nidavellir are a little smoother than last time." That sounds like a fun story is attached. This man is wearing the same design of circlet as Sigyn, so Tony's guessing that it's a relative. An uncle or her father, maybe.

Small talk is passed around the table, but he's content to listen without throwing any input into the conversation. This lasts for what Tony's guessing is about twenty minutes before the guests finally stop trickling inside the room and the doors are closed by the guards. Tony sees Heimdall slip into the room beforehand, but quickly loses track of the man.

King Odin waits maybe two more minutes for everyone to settle before rising to his feet and stomping his staff-thing against the ground. The room is immediately choked by silence. Tony is more than a little impressed. Getting everyone to be quiet all at once is no small feat.

Tony strains his neck to stare at the king's face as he begins to speak, "Great citizens of the Nine," he addresses, throwing up his hands for energy, "Asgard welcomes you to the celebration of the longest stretch of peace between our realms! Our soldiers are at ease, our people jubilant, and relations are alleviated. This is something that will go down in history for millennials—look at what we can build when we are united!" Cheers follow this statement and glasses are raised to it.

King Odin raises his hand to quiet the crowd once more. "Everything that has been built we have to thank for the contributions that you and your realms have made to contributing to the peace—" that's great, warm, and fuzzy with all that, but what did  _they_ do in order to get dragged up here? "—Vanaheim—your continuous dedication to peace and ease with accepting Asgardian aid. Nidavellir—you have created weapons for peace, not weapons for war. Muspelheim—You have burned as a fiery beam to remind all enemies to the Nine to remain away. Alfheim—your light and gentle hearts have united us. Asgard—to our beaming glow at the head of the Nine, guiding history forward. And to Midgard—for opening the gateway to peace through their actions of stopping the last tyrant in the Redwashed Age!"

The crowd bursts into further shouting and Tony notices that Thor's grip is tight around his cup. Sigyn, across from him, has an expression of cold steel as she wraps her fingers around the crystal glass in what looks like a painful manner.

King Odin silences the people yet again, "I thank you all for the hard work you have done to place us in this position. May peace live long and prosper. I welcome you all to the second Golden Age of our history!" King Odin raises his glass and the crowd follows, including the table Tony's seated at, loud cries of "aye" or some other confirmation being tossed around the room. Tony lifts up his glass, not wanting to look like an idiot, and makes the same noise, but it's in a murmur.

He takes a swig of the liquid for the toast and nearly sputters it back up his throat all over the table with disgust at the sharp acidic taste it provides. Tony has never really  _liked_ the taste of alcohol, it was just something he adjusted to as he got older and didn't care when it became a disorder, but it hasn't been as clear until this moment. Asgardian wine-mead-whatever this is is  _nasty._

Tony manages to make it past his gag reflex and rests the cup on the table then glances at Bruce. His expression is thinned with the same displeasure and it makes Tony feel a little better that he wasn't the only person to feel like he was swallowing carborane acid.

Dinner is served after that and Tony quickly understands why Thor sometimes stares at Earth food with such confusion. The meal is elaborate and most of it has this weird texture, but it, unlike the drink, doesn't make him want to throw up. Their rolls have the texture of marshmallows, but taste like artificial watermelons, their meat is thickly sweet like cough drops, and the salad has the texture of worms and tastes about the same.

The small talk picks up across the table again, but Tony mostly ignores it as he and Bruce quietly assess the food and dissect some of it, trying to determine what it's made out of—Bruce is weird like that. He takes apart his food before he eats it. He's not being picky, it's just an idiosyncrasy.

Everything is pretty ignorable (politics are nice like that) until the man that Tony has learned is Sigyn's father—whose name is Røkia—turns to King Odin and asks: "I have missed receiving Loki's letters—I know I sentimental about times long since passed and he is not the man my daughter married, but how does he fair?"

Thor slams his fork into his plate aggressively and chokes on the drink he was swallowing.

Tony whirls towards him, concerned and confused, but notices that King Odin's expression is blanched slightly. A deer-caught-in-headlights kind of blanch. King Odin glances once at Thor before answering in what appears to almost be a blurt: "Loki escaped."

_What?_

_When?_

Tony whips his head towards Thor for an explanation. If Loki is wandering around—it is something that they need to know about. When did this happen? Why would Thor withhold this information? Thor may be Loki's brother, but he's not an idiot, surly he recognizes the danger that his sibling poses.

Sigyn looks infinitesimally relieved, then confused, "When did this happen?"

"A little less than a month ago." King Odin answers. "It has not yet been made public and I ask you to keep it that way, we are hoping to locate him before he causes any harm."

"Oh." Sigyn's voice is quiet.

"Yes, it was unexpected turn of events, have you heard of the enchanted wolves on Vanaheim?" King Odin quickly launches to another topic, even if the king of Alfheim seems strangely reluctant to do so.

Tony makes a pointed face at Thor and his teammate shakes his head slightly then leans close to him, "My father is lying." Thor says in a voice so quiet it's hard to pick out among the rest of the chatter around them. "Loki is still on Asgard."

Um?

Did he not just—?

Thor sighs slightly, "I will explain later tonight. Or rather, I'll show all of you. My father, I believe, is embarrassed by what happened."

"Which was?" Tony presses.

Thor's lips thin, "A story for another time. Loki is harmless."

Tony snorts and sees Bruce raise an eyebrow from his peripheral vision. "I swear," Thor promises, "You have your doubts, but I can quell them—and I will. I'll take you to him. You'll see."

With that lovely note in mind, dinner passes relatively quickly after that. Tony's pretty sure that it only does so because of the anxiety in his stomach—and it's not from the prospect of seeing Loki—though that doesn't add—but rather just the general aura of Asgard. He feels so out of place here, it's not even really funny. It's like he moved to a different country without any knowledge of the laws or language. Most everyone is speaking English, but that's not really what the problem is. That prize goes solely to context.

There's a brief spur of dancing that graces after the meal, but Tony has little desire to join anyone that isn't Pepper on the floor. He spends most of it next to Bruce and Steve in a little corner of what feels like shame, but is mostly just silence. Any conversation they try to attempt is quickly cut off or just fades out awkwardly. Natasha and Clint vanish into the fray and Tony glimpses Sigyn and her father dancing together.

King Odin and Queen Frigga don't move from the table, and though Tony loses track of Thor for most of the event, he spots him talking with Heimdall towards end. He's not certain if he's spent the whole dance there, but guessing by how into their conversation they are, Tony's guessing yes.

When the people begin to trickle out, Thor materializes in front of them with Natasha and Clint on either side. His face is etched with anxiety and he chances a glance towards his parents before turning to them. "I know that you have questions of my brother's "escape"." Thor says quickly, "And I can answer them, but you will not be able to breathe a word of this to anyone."

_Why?_

Thor catches their skeptical looks, "My father is unaware of where he is. Those who don't bring forth his location are...treated harshly."

This is one of those moments in time that Tony really wishes he didn't have an obligation to look out for the greater good of everyone. If he wasn't an Avenger, he would throw up his hands and declare that he's good and doesn't need to see Thor's insane little brother and move on with life. As it is, they need to gather information for S.H.I.E.L.D., and  _themselves_ for future attacks. They can't have another battle of New York.

Steve stares at each of them evenly, apparently coming to the same realization before taking a slight step forward, an exhausted, but firm resolve in the movement. "Show us."

000o000

To be completely frank, and embarrassingly honest, Tony had expected to walk into a torture chamber. Simple as that. Specifically, though, the medieval style things with the saw blades descending on an innocent victim as they scream for mercy—yeah,  _that_ kind of torture chamber. His second thought immediately went to the brutal depths Norse mythology. Understand, Tony is aware how flaky the stupid myths are, but they have to be based off of  _some_ truth, yes? Ergo: snake dripping venom into the eyes of Loki as he's chained by the guts of his kids. Sigyn is alive and kicking, so it didn't seem too far fetched.

Both, relievedly, are wrong.

Instead, Thor guides them to a large estate after awkwardly looping around people with what looked like practiced ease (Thor does not look like he has sneaking skills, but ask anyone on the team the amount of times he's jump scared them and the numbers will add to be very high). The building is a pristine white with golden window frames and designing, the edges smoothed and decorated simply. The surrounding vista is green with life and looks like a little secluded jungle in the midst of a neighborhood.

The building looks large enough to easily house the entire state of Wyoming.

Thor leads them up to the door and knocks once before it's opened by a woman with graying blonde hair and a stern face. Nothing about her really agrees with the idea of "gentle"; she takes one look at them before turning back to Thor an eyebrow raised and body wary.

"I am to permit them into my home?" Her voice is drawn tight with an accent similar to Thor's.

Thor nods. "Please; they want to see him."

"Many people  _want_ to," the woman assures and looks them all over again, "very few are warranted. These are your Avengers, I assume? No one else would dare dress so plainly in front of our king save mortals."

Ouch.

Okay, yeah, he already felt embarrassed about the clothing choice and he didn't really need her to confirm his fears. Really. He didn't. Jerk. She's...she's like a mean librarian—minus the spectacles and the fact that she could easily be a model even though she's probably older than Columbus. Bad analogy.  _Thor's_ older than Columbus—wait, with the whacko time thing,  _is_ he? Yeah, Norse mythology is  _old_ and they couldn't have predicted the existence of Asgardians.

" _Eir._ " Thor's tongue is sharp and gives a name to the woman. Eir. Yeah, that fits her. "Take care to watch your tone."

Eir gives a bare sigh of annoyance before rolling her eyes and standing back from the doorway to let them in, "Of course; forgive me, Your Highness."

Thor slips past her and the rest of them follow; she's a little shorter than Clint, but her entire presence seems to suck any will power to oppose her for miles around them. Thor easily guides them past the foyer towards a hallway as Eir closes the door behind them and takes up the rear of their party.

Tony bites his tongue, not for the first time today, and follows in silence. The house is just as big as it looked on the outside and by the time they reach the door that Thor stops in front of, Tony fairly certain he would not be able to navigate his way out of the building should the need arise.

So, yeah, if it lights on fire that would be bad, because he's not getting out—okay Stark,  _focus._ The walls are similarly decorated to the palace, and Tony's guessing that paintings hanging up in buildings isn't something that's very popular. Instead, like the throne room, tapestries are hanging from the ceiling to the floor depicting events or stories.

Thor releases a slight breath before pushing the door open and taking a step inside.

The room is mostly bare save a bed and a few desks littered with medical supplies. Jars, bottles, cups—anything. Tony isn't sure he's seen a gathering of this many bottles for a while. The bed, located in the center of the room, is glowing—which considering the rest of Asgard outside, Tony doesn't find it as weird as he probably should—some sort of golden dust-like dome covering the single occupant.

Loki.

The Asgardian barely looks recognizable from five years ago. His dark hair has been recently trimmed, at least, hazarding a guess from the curling edges to a little below his ear. The shorter length makes him look startlingly younger. His face is more gaunt and eyes shadowed despite his sleep. His hands are lying limply on his stomach and he is dressed in a cream tunic, a thin blanket over his torso. He looks...Tony doesn't know, innocent? Young? No, sick. He looks sick. Wretchedly ill and knocking on death's doorstep ready to be taken to the world beyond.

The most prominent thing, however, is his  _lips._ Black thread is driven between skin, pulled taut and keeping them shut. Blood dies his lips a gruesome bright red, but it doesn't really catch Tony's attention for more than a second because  _someone sewed his lips shut._

Disgust and horror wrap around his chest.

Loki looks awful.

Brittle.

As they enter, a woman rises to her feet from a position in a chair beside the bed. Long dark hair is swept back into a braid and there's a sword strapped to her hip. Her clothing looks remarkably more simple than the elaborate ball gowns Tony has come to associate with Asgard over the last few hours.

Her brown eyes meet Thor's and she gives a slight smile in greeting, "Thor," she dips her head in respect, "it is good to see you again. All is well."

Thor's shoulders visibly slump with relief and he nods, "Good."

She takes a few more steps forward and rests a hand on his shoulder giving it a quick squeeze before glancing at them for a second. Her gaze flickers with confusion before it clears. "Ah, Avengers," she dips her head slightly, again (it looks like a sign of respect, but Tony still isn't sure), but her eyes are narrowed and she glances back towards Loki again.

Eir has moved from her position of trailing them, coming to a stop next to the bed, leaning forward to rest a hand on Loki's wrist. A weird sort of glow slips down from her forearm into his and she closes her eyes, sighing quietly under her breath.

"You're not here to further harm one of my princes, I hope." The woman, not Eir, says abruptly and Tony flicks his gaze from Eir to her, momentarily confused. Harm...the...wait. " _Further harm"?_ What the— _how_ is this  _their_ fault? None of them did this to Loki! They didn't sew his lips shut or starve him. They haven't even seen him in five years— _how_ is she pinning  _this_  on  _them?_

Tony opens his mouth to bite a retort out, something that probably wouldn't have been anything nice, but Thor lightly smacks the woman's upper arm, looking flustered. " _Sif."_ He says firmly. "What happened is not their fault."

Sif.

Tony knows Sif. Thor talks about her sometimes. She's like his shield-sister. They go hunting together with three others, the Warriors Three or something like that. Thor once told a story about how they nearly got their heads chopped off and fed to dragons, so that's fun.

"Isn't it?" Sif challenges.

" _No._ " Thor avers with conviction.

She smiles, but it's venomous. "The only reason he's  _in here_ is because  _they_ sent him back."

_What!_

Thor shakes his head, " _I_ took him back, Sif."

She rests her hands on her hips and Tony recognizes the position from Pepper. It's her so-done stance that promptly follows him giving in to whatever it was that she wanted. Thor appears to recognize it to. He rests a hand on her shoulder, "Please, I swear to you that everything will be fine."

Sif relents with a sigh. She glances back at Loki a final time before shaking her head and slipping from the room after pointedly avoiding looking at any of them. Tony releases a breath of slight frustration and turns back to Thor. He's moved across the room and is now standing beside Eir.

"Any changes?" The Asgardian questions.

Eir shakes her head, "His vitals are still low and the brain activity remains the same."

Brain activity? Is he in a coma? He looks like he could be with his still breathing and gaunt face. He seems dead to the world beyond the faint rattling of his chest.

Thor's lips thin. He turns back to them and Clint folds his arms across his chest. His expression is thinned. He's anxious, but trying not to show it. His following words are clipped: "Um, yeah, an explanation would be nice."

Thor nods, "Right, sorry. I...I had forgotten that you aren't native here—it isn't in the news or anything."

They  _would_ know if Thor ever talked about it.

...Does he not trust them with information like this?

They've known each other for five years now, what have they been doing wrong? Tony's not great at making friends—or has any skill in the department whatsoever, but he has been  _trying._ What can he do better? He doesn't want to lose Thor because he's not good at keeping people around—why can't Thor just  _tell them?_ He would have kept the secrets. Why wouldn't he tell them? Fear of their reaction? Yeah, he's not exactly  _happy_ with the outcome (numb, admittedly, and confused), but he would have…

Would have...

Tony bites at his tongue and buries his fingers beneath his arms, trying to stave off the inevitable panic attack. Thor wets his lips, "Right. Um. It's a bit of a long story." None of them shift, giving him room to continue. Thor blows out a breath, "When we returned to Asgard after the battle of New York, my brother was allowed to clean himself up, briefly get examined by a healer before going to his sentencing. My brother was given no trial. Loki's sentence was to spend the rest of his life in silence so no one else would suffer his lies. My father...my father ordered his lips to be sewn shut with enchanted thread that cannot be broken by any means we have found so he would be forced to endure in a stillness so quiet he couldn't even hear his own voice. In an effort to appease my mother, I believe, Loki was allowed to receive treatment for his madness...but it didn't help."

Treatment? Tony's eyebrow lifts of its own accord, "Wait. Your brother's sentence was to spend eternity receiving  _therapy?"_

What a punishment.

Eir's eyes narrow, and she buts in before Thor can answer: "No. We have mental health treatments on Asgard, Mr. Stark, we know how to aid the diseases, Odin did not request that. Loki was put on drugs that were meant to "help" him and the cause of his madness was determined to be his magic."

"And?" Bruce presses. He sounds as skeptical as Tony feels.

"There is no spell Odin could perform that Loki couldn't break over time and Odin  _knows_ that, so they took his focus," Eir explains, then gestures vaguely towards Loki's sleeping form, "his hands. They permanently ruined nerves, so they shake constantly now; his fingers will likely be stiff for the rest of his existence."

Oh.

_Oh._

Tony subconsciously tucks his hands closer to his chest.

"But why is he  _here?"_ Natasha questions, flicking her hand out to the room, "He was in prison when he was sentenced."

Thor and Eir share a look before Thor blows out a breath and shrugs lightly, his lips drawn into a tight line. " _You_ are here because my father is attempting to celebrate peace he nearly lost to a civil war," Thor pauses, then adds, "Loki is here because of that."

_What?_

Tony feels his lips part with surprise and shares a startled look with Steve.

A  _civil war?_

Thor mentioned nothing. He came back home looking a little haggard and worse for wear recently, but none of them had gotten any straight answers from him. Tony wishes they would have pushed harder. This is insane. A  _civil war._ You don't just throw those to the side when you get mildly annoyed because you're bored of it. People don't get appeased like that. And yet, here they are celebrating  _peace._

"A…" Thor pauses, clearly looking for the right word before settling on: "discovery happened in Asgard's Courts a few months ago that caused an uproar among its' cities. For my brother's sake, they demanded justice that my father refused to offer. He claimed that Loki had been imprisoned in a right, and no one was very...pleased with that assessment."

Eir snorts and lifts an eyebrow. "'Pleased', you're really going with that?"

Thor looks irritated and rolls his eyes up towards the ceiling, "What else would you have me say? Am I to launch into great detail about the near bloodbath on the palace's doorstep, because I'd rather say that no one was very happy."

"Wait. ' _Bloodbath'?"_ Steve repeats. Both Asgardian's snap their jaws shut and turn to face them, looking as if they just remember they're here.

Thor stills for a second, then releases a breath, then appends with slight reluctance: "After my father's refusal to reevaluate Loki's sentencing, those still loyal to my brother, known as the Snake's Children, cloaked themselves and marched to the palace intent on freeing him no matter the cost. My father finally relented and threw Loki into their midst and they retreated. Most couldn't be identified, but Eir's husband, Ereti and a few others didn't bother to hide themselves and were drawn into the public square and executed. In an attempt to appease the great rift between the country, my father threw the celebration together."

Well.

Um.

Okay.

_What the heck is he supposed to do with this information!?_

Asgard almost branched into a civil war for  _Loki._ The psychopath that tried to murder all of them, conquer their planet, and mind controlled more than fifty people in less than five days. Nope. Tony can't see it. They're all insane here. Who would help  _Loki?_ Yeah, he was their prince—

Loki was their  _prince._

He was  _royalty._

It's as foreign a thought as the realization of what this means with Thor. Loki has a group of loyal followers on Asgard. " _Snake's Children"._ This is crazy. Tony isn't sure that he  _likes_ the revelation, and how terrible is that?

"You were apart of the group that nearly stormed the palace." Clint says, snapping Tony back to the present. He draws his gaze up to Thor once more, barely catching the slight flinch that ripples through the blond's stance.

Thor's lips thin before he gives a slight nod.

Right.

Okay.

Thor almost started a civil war.

Oh man.  _Thor almost started a civil war._

" _I know what you did, boy."_ His uncle had muttered, but now Tony finally understands. Asgard nearly split down the middle and fought tooth and nail for Loki's freedom.  _Loki._ The crazy Asgardian bent on world domination. That Loki.

This is...a bit to process.

_Thor almost started a civil war._

"You didn't think it relevant to tell us any of this?" Natasha questions, her voice is sharp. "Thor—"

"What was I supposed to say?" Thor rebukes, "None of you bare any sympathy for my sibling and would rather see him  _hanged_ than help me try to right a wrong."

Tony chokes.

""Wrong"?" Clint demands sharply, fingers digging into his arms. "That's what this is? Everything he did doesn't matter anymore because—why? Someone dug up information about heaven-knows-what and suddenly he's cleared of charges? It's been  _five years,_ Thor. People who do what he did spend the rest of their  _lives_ in prison on Earth."

Eir hisses and jerks a finger towards Loki, "He has spent nearly  _two hundred years_ drugged without a voice and slowly starving to death and you have the audacity to tell me that it wasn't enough?"

Clint's eyes tighten and Natasha rests a hand on her partner's shoulder to keep him from doing something stupid. "I never said that I—"

"Sadistic, unfeeling—" Eir starts sharply, but Thor makes a noise in the back of his throat.

"Eir. That is enough." The old woman's stance is sharp, but she snaps her jaw shut at Thor's request, eyes narrowed.

Steve shifts forward, cutting through the thick tension suddenly present. "What was on the discovery that resulted in all of...this?" He waves his hands out in the general direction of the room. His expression is painfully wound, though, and Tony can easily see the anxiety present on his face. Tony doesn't doubt that  _his_ face is a mirror of it.

_Thor almost started a civil war._

Thor blows out a breath. "My brother's assessment by Gungnir—my father's staff and Loki's...caretakers. My father's staff is exceptionally skilled in checking for outside interference—it is used in every trial to determine if the actions were taken of their own free will. The caretakers has also ran tests on my brother to determine the reason of his madness."

So this means…

"What did it find?" Bruce asks, his voice quiet.

Thor closes his eyes and exhales slowly, but he refuses to meet any of their gazes. "Remnants of the Mind Stone. My brother's attack on New York was done under the influence of the scepter."

And that—

So—

It—

_What?_

Clint swears under his breath, and Tony sees his other teammates expressions flicker with surprise.

_How on the—?_

"He was  _what?"_ Clint demands, then shakes his head once, then again, "I don't—that— _what?"_

Thor manages a smile, but it's strained. "I was surprised myself—even doubted Eteri's word, he's the one who discovered the details."

"Loki's body bares scars from torture," Eir adds quietly, "we were all to blind to see it before now. Had this been a public trial, Loki would have received the aid he needed more than a century ago. But what's done is done. We will never get anywhere by focusing on the past."

The scepter. Loki was under its influence when he attacked. But that means that— _that—_

Tony doesn't want to think about this.

_He didn't want to know this._

_He was happy being ignorant._

"I apologize for the lack of a warning." Thor says, drawing Tony back, "I hadn't expected this to happen. My father put the celebration together to place my people into unity again—details of Loki's release, as I told you, are not public. My father is not even aware of Loki's location—but he means to find it. He has been interrogating everyone, Heimdall especially, but everyone refuses to offer details, my father is flustered and the search is fruitless."

"He's our prince," Eir says simply, "what else does the All-Father expect?"

Tony stares at both of them for a long moment, then turns his gaze to Loki again. The sickly, startlingly young Asgardian. Mind control. And as awful as it is...it makes a great deal of sense. A few days after the battle, Loki was quiet and morose. From what Tony can remember, he seemed to have trouble focusing and stumbled over his words before the muzzle happened. It was different from the flaunting mass of talking and snark that had been present days before.

Tony hasn't thought about that in years.

He hasn't had a  _reason_  to.

Eir nudges Thor's arm as if a thought just occurred to her, "I heard that Princess Sigyn was allowed attendance. Have you told her about this?"

Oh yeah. Tony had almost forgotten about the blonde. Loki's wife. Loki's  _wife._ The thought is still bizarre. Even now, with Loki's sick form and hollow face, he can't picture Sigyn and Loki standing side by side, let alone being  _married._

Thor shakes his head. "I haven't had a chance. Father's been pulling me everywhere today."

Eir nods with understanding. "Alright. Fine. But her time is limited and I will personally see to your soul being kept from Valhalla if more time must pass before they can see each other again."

_More?_

Thor laughs, but his expression is pained. "Yes." He turns back to them, "Come, we should return to the palace, the hour grows late."

Tony's body agrees. His limbs are strangely heavy and he feels disjoined from everything. Thor murmurs a few words to Eir before clasping Bruce's shoulder and steering him from the room. The rest of them follow numbly.

When they return to the palace, Tony's asleep before he hits the pillow

000o000

Tony wakes up sometime in the middle of the night and can't fall back asleep. His mind is whirring to much with the new information about Loki and the attack of New York that it feels impossible  _to_ return to dreamworld. Insomnia isn't his favorite thing, but it's something that has been his burden to bear since he was a child. He spends the remaining time of the night taking apart his phone and putting it back together. He's too afraid to touch anything else in the room with fear of breaking it, so exploration isn't something he's to keen on.

When morning finally does arrive and the twin suns peak over the edge of the horizon, Tony jolts at the sound of a knock. He tumbles to his feet in a mess of blankets wrapped around his toes that don't want to let him go, then staggers to the door pulling the handle open.

Akeh, the servant Thor pointed out to them yesterday, is standing at the doorway a piece of paper between his fingers. "Prince Thor sent this for you." He announces, shoving it out in Tony's direction. Tony takes the paper more on instinct of not wanting to get pummeled than anything else.

"Um. Thanks." Tony says and Akeh gives a short nod before moving down the hallway. Tony thins his lips together tightly, then shuts the door and flicks the paper up. Thor's handwriting is not like the rest of Asgard's painfully tight, scrawling cursive. His letters always slant to the left and they're typically drawn thin, but it's  _readable._

_I will be unable to meet with any of you today. My father has ushered me into many tasks that will fill most of my time. Go see the city with the rest of the team. I've sent messages of similar script to everyone else. I don't recommend remaining in the palace for the rest of the day. The next celebratory action is tonight. =)_

_—Thor_

Tony's a little more proud than he cares to admit that Thor added the smiley face. They've tainted him, and it's beautiful.

A little less than an hour later, Tony gathers with the rest of the team, manage to track down some food for breakfast, then slip out of the palace via Thor's direction so spend some time in the city. It looks no less impressive than it did yesterday when they arrived.

One of the biggest differences, however, is the  _people._  It isn't overly busy because of the hour, but there is a sufficient contrast between having the crown prince of the planet with you when you go through the streets, and being by yourself. The people are...Tony doesn't want to say "nicer", but it's really the only word he can come up with that fits.

No one is explicitly  _nasty,_ they just treat him and his team like they're a rather unpleasant smear of dirt on their polished shoe. Tony doesn't like it much. Asgard's shops, however, are filled with items that he doesn't understand, but a few he can recognize vaguely for what their purpose is probably supposed to be.

He and Bruce are immediately drawn towards the weird, floating balls that are present, but Natasha, Clint and Steve seem more interested in the plants that they're selling. Verdure appears to be a common household item, but Tony can't recall seeing any in the palace. He  _can_  distantly remember a few plants in Eir's home, however.

The square, though, is  _large_ and as more people begin to trickle into it, Tony quickly loses the rest of his team and is lost wandering next to the shops by himself, stifling an anxiety attack. He hates unfamiliar places like this where people are speaking languages he doesn't know and it makes his chest ache and his arc reactor grind against his rib cage painfully and— _and—_

Tony can't remember slipping to his knees, but he is aware that it happened when a hand rests on his shoulder. He jolts, hands coming up in a defensive position and ready to ward off whoever it is, but pauses, startled.

Her clothing is much simpler than last night's attire and her shoulder-length blonde waves fall around her face freely. She looks so different that Tony almost doesn't recognize her, but one glance at the stormy gray reassures him of this woman's identity.

Sigyn.

Loki's wife.

Loki, who is was under the control of the scepter the  _entire time_ and none of them suspected a  _thing._

"Are you alright, my lord?" Sigyn's voice is quiet.

No.

He is not.

_He needs to find his team._

Tony can't make any noise.

_They still won't speak English, and the water is surrounding his head, dragging him under and under, the car battery is humming painfully and—_

His throat is constricting.

He gives an affirmative nod and Sigyn's lips thin slightly before she sighs and gently tugs him to his feet. Tony stumbles, but Sigyn steadies him before shoving a wicker basket into his hands. "You're one of the Avengers, yes?" She questions.

Tony offers her a slow nod.

He still can't speak, and he's going to crush her basket.

Sigyn nods before steering him forward, "I saw your companions, but I'm not sure where they went. I think it best to let them find us, yes? For the moment, I have some shopping I need to get done and you can hold this for me."

The basket.

Right.

Yeah.

He can do that.

_He had a panic attack in the middle of a public square on a foreign planet. Pathetic._

He wants to talk to Pepper.

Sigyn guides him through the streets, but she doesn't seem to be very fond of him, or she's otherwise just quiet. She barely offers half responses to anyone who speaks with her and just about dumps coins on counters rather than speak with the shopkeepers. Tony doesn't pay attention to most of what she's buying, but by the time he can think straight again, she's piled a quantity inside of the basket.

Tony reigns in his anxiety and forces himself to speak like a normal person: "Do you often drag random people into helping you do your shopping?"

Sigyn side glances him, "Not typically, no."

Great.

So he was a pity case.

"Well. I guess I should be honored, but I mostly just feel used." Tony admits, "It's like your some old grandmother who needs my help putting her groceries away after nearly getting hit by a semi-truck."

Sigyn stares, pauses, opens her mouth and closes it before admitting: "I have no idea what you just said."

Tony shrugs. "I'm not surprised." Sigyn shakes her head lightly, her lips pulled into a faint smile. It makes her eyes lose tension, exhaustion and sadness that Tony wasn't aware was there until it's gone.

"You trying to buy out their ink?" Tony questions, looking down at the contents of the basket, "You must have a dozen jars in here."

"Alfheim doesn't produce ink as well as Asgard, I've come to learn," Sigyn explains with a light shrug, "I don't suspect I'll return here anytime soon, so yes, I do plan to purchase as much as I can."

There can't be much left in the square.

"Return?" Tony repeats, his eyebrows meeting in confusion. Everyone keeps speaking about Sigyn like she hasn't been to Asgard in decades. Surely she's visited her husband or  _lived_ here? They were married. Why does everyone keep saying that she's not coming back? "Does you not being able to come back to buy more ink have anything to do with your marriage to Loki?"

Sigyn's spin stiffens and she comes to a rigid halt.

Tony nearly tumbles into her back, but stays his ground by rocking on the tips of his toes.

Sigyn looks back at him, gray eyes ignited. "Yes." She takes off, quickly burrowing through the crowd, obviously trying to avoid the conversation and Tony struggles to keep pace with her.

Wait.

_What does it have to do with Loki!?_

When he finally catches up to her, she's stopped at another counter, fiddling through children's toys. Rather than go about this in the gentle, round about way that Tony knows he should  _probably_ do, he drops the bomb again: "So marriage. To Loki." Tony pushes. Sigyn looks up at him, her eyebrows drawn together in what looks like annoyance and patience at once. It's impressive.

Sigyn picks up a ball from one of the counters and spins it in her hand; it makes a brightly colored light that looks strongly like an alien spaceship. Sigyn puts it down and moves onto the next counter.

"Relations between Alfheim and Asgard were strained," She explains halfheartedly, but her stance is wound.

"It was arranged?" Tony guesses.

"Yes." She picks up something else that sort of looks like a pen, but when she clicks it, beads fall out. She shakes her head and sets it down, fiddling with something else.

"Yeah. Sorry." Tony offers.

Sigyn looks back at him and her expression looks vaguely harmful, "Everyone keeps telling me that. Loki and I's marriage wasn't by our choice, but we were not  _unhappy._ The years I spent with my husband were the best of my life. I love him dearly, and he would have gone to Helheim and back for me. He's my best friend."

Oh.

Tony wrings his hands, embarrassed. "I only knew him as a murderous psychopath, cut me a little slack." He requests.  _Don't take my head off like I know you want to._

Sigyn blows out a breath and turns back to the counters. Their quiet for a few minutes as Sigyn continues to search for whatever it is she's trying to find. Tony's not really sure. She seems to be looking at the children's toys, but everything she picks up she's displeased with.

After she sets down another hairpiece, Tony pipes up again: "How old were you?" She looks back at him and he appends, "With the marriage thing. Neither one of you can be past twenty-five."

Sigyn looks confused for a second, then her expression clears. "In Midgardian years…" her brows furrow, "we were young. I am the Crown Princess of the my realm and my father offered me as a way to ensure the peace between our Realms. Loki was closer to my age than Thor was, which is why he was forced into the arrangement instead. We were both…" she trails for a second, "seventeen, I believe." Tony's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline and he nearly drops the basket in his hands.

_Seventeen._

Seriously? That is like—not even funny.

"You guys weren't even adults yet." Tony says soberly. Tony doesn't really consider anyone to  _be_ one until they're twenty. Heck, he's in his mid-thirties, and he  _still_ doesn't consider  _himself_ an adult.

Sigyn looks back at him and gives a sad smile, "We were. Alfheim, Vanaheim, and Asgard's political systems run much the same. Everyone is considered an adult when they reach the Midgardian age of sixteen. Typically, marriage is not permitted until we are twenty-one, but my father was desperate and King Odin bent the rules for the political marriage to happen."

"That's…" Tony trails, uncertain what word to use. So instead, he asks a question: "So how old are you now? Thor's twenty-four-ish, and I don't know enough about the age gap between him and Loki to make any estimations."

Sigyn's lips thin and she flicks her gaze up as she does the mental math. "I…" she trails as she thinks, "I would be around twenty-one. Almost twenty-two. My husband would be twenty-two. He's older than me by several months."

Seventeen.

That's insane.

Even for a political marriage.

And—

"Are you buying rats?" Tony questions, trying to keep his expression from being visibly horrified as he snaps back into the present. Sigyn has a bag of them in her hands and is handing the man at the counter coins.

Sigyn looks up at him, her lips thinned, but he recognizes a glint of laughter in her gray eyes. "Yes."

Oh, nasty.

" _Ew."_ Tony says firmly, "That is disgusting. What are you going to do with rats?"

Sigyn's laughter fades, "They're toys."

" _For what!?"_ Tony knows that his voice is pitching, but for all that is good in the world, he can't stop it.

Sigyn stares at him, "My children; they are on Alfheim, I promised them I would return with a gift."

Tony stares at her flabbergasted for a long moment. Children. Her...her children. Loki's married  _and_ has kids now?

What the heck?

Why did no one mention this before now!?

Tony can't stop the gawking, but Sigyn moves forward and he's forced to stagger after her.

Children. Pepper's pregnant. Seven months along with their first child. A daughter. They've been so excited for her arrival, even with Pepper's horrible morning sickness and overall inability to function properly. She's still managed to run SI without a problem, and Tony's pretty sure that people are more terrified of her because she has a baby blooming than they were before hand.

But still.

He can't imagine wanting to give his daughter a  _rat._

He jogs up beside her, "Wait—why are you giving your kids  _rats?"_

For that matter, who  _sells_ dead rats?

She smiles at him, but it's bitter. "My children are not like others, they will be happy with this gift. Shh," she hushes when he opens his mouth to ask, "it is a tale that is not for your ears."

Sigyn refuses to talk with him for the rest of their time together.

Twenty minutes later, Tony has found the other Avengers and gives the Alfheim princess her basket back and escapes to be with his team before he can say anything else stupid. They all look immediately relieved, but Tony isn't focusing on it.

How little they knew about Thor  _and_ Loki's lives is surprising; he wants to know more. He can't stand being in the dark like this anymore. Asgard is not the warm bunnies and rainbow cottages they thought it was. It's thick with a shadow that Tony wants to poke at and study, he just needs to figure out  _how._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be March 8th or sooner. Until then, my friends!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour! =) I'm on time and I'm very proud, I really, really didn't think I was going to make it. #beingsickequalsnofun XD Thank you so much for your support guys, really, I appreciate it more than I can express. I'm spoiled to have you all as my readers. :) You're amazing, don't you dare forget that! =)
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing!
> 
> Warnings: Child abuse, mentions of assumed child death, mention of assumed couple abuse, and a mentioned canon suicide attempt; please take care of yourselves, loves!

* * *

_""Ignorance is bliss"."_

_"Well, what's wrong with bliss?"_

_-BBC's "Sherlock" S4E2_

 

* * *

   
After explaining, briefly, the conversation with Sigyn to the rest of his team, they spend a large majority of the morning and well into the middle of the afternoon continuing to explore the city, but this time, closely packed together. Tony doesn't see Sigyn for the rest of the exploration and assumes that she's returned to the palace to pack her rats _._

_Rats._

When they finally return to the palace, towards the beginning of the first sunrise (Tony's sense of time is a mess because of this), it's earlier than what Thor wanted, but Tony's really not certain how much more they can explore without accidentally breaking something. Admittedly, all of them would love to see how the devices work, but asking only gets them strange and slightly annoyed glances.

All of them, however,  _are_  tired and exhausted with trying to keep up with Asgard's standards that they just don't seem to fit the mold of. Tony is at the point of tugging out his hair at the umpteenth stare of annoyance and displeasure sent in their direction.

He was completely wrong about Thor's people.

They're flipping  _jerks._

The palace is still gleaming, sun-stricken and casting a large shadow on the city behind it. Tony is a little more relieved than he cares to admit at the sight. Day two is nearly over, five more to go then they can go home and leave this entire mess behind. At least, the party part.

They manage to make it back to the hall with the guest bedrooms without getting horribly lost and then, in unspoken agreement, gather in Clint and Natasha's. The room isn't much different from Tony's: clean, white and decorated sparsely, but it's a little more obvious that someone has spent time here. Tony doesn't like messes unless they're in his lab, so he didn't bother with unpacking. Natasha and Clint are both well trained, however, to make it seem like someone has been living in a room for weeks when it isn't home. It's a habit that Tony doesn't think either are even aware of anymore.

Clothing isn't thrown around the room or shoes scattered everywhere like most people would associate with living somewhere, but the subtle shifting of various vases, as well as other nick knacks and books left here and there along with the movement of the draperies give off the impression someone has been here long enough to be comfortable.

Tony collapses onto one of the couches, loosening the red tie wrapped around his neck and blowing out a long breath. "Ugh." He grits, undoing the polo's collar. "I think someone should invent something to replace the tie."

Bruce hisses out a breath in agreement as he takes a seat next to Tony, hands going up to loosen his tie then throws it towards where Tony set his on the sort-of-coffee-table-looking-thing. Steve tosses his at the pile and throws himself onto the couch across from Tony and Bruce, releasing an audible breath of relief. In what Tony suspects is growing amusement, Clint sets his suit coat, with the tie, onto the coffee table and sits down to lay on the floor.

"Oh." Clint says loudly and rolls up his sleeves, resting his head in his hands, "This is nice."

Tony kicks off his shoes and closes his eyes, tipping his head back, "I think that everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. must long for the ability to fight in their pajamas. We can do that and no one will know a difference."

"Except when you go running out in your Avenger's pajama bottoms," Clint jibes loudly. Which, contrary to popular belief, Tony doesn't have. He  _does_ own Avengers-based clothing, just not as much as most people think. Natasha keeps stealing them, though, so that probably doesn't help.

Before she and Clint moved into the Tower, they'd never had space or time to really collect anything of value. Sentimental items were few and far between. After they got the steady home the Tower provides, they've both gotten more comfortable with owning a wardrobe of more than four items of clothing. But Natasha still steals everyone else's clothes, mostly tops, jackets, or hoodies, sometimes Clint's sweatpants. Tony isn't sure why she thinks that everyone else's closet is an extension of her own, but no one has tried to fight her on it.

Still though. She stole his favorite hoodie and has yet to give it back. Granted that was last week, but still, she's usually better at returning items.

"You boys do realize that you're going to have to get back into that for tonight, right?" Natasha asks, and Tony peaks an eye open a sliver to see her rest her four inch heels on the coffee table then place her hands on her hips.

Tony groans, closes his eyes, then waves his hand towards her. "Shh." He shushes, "We're enjoying our freedom."

Steve makes an incoherent noise from across the room, but it mostly sounds in agreement and when Tony peaks his eyes open again, the captain's hand is lifted in a thumbs up. He can almost hear the redhead's eye-roll—though he doesn't see it—before Natasha shifts forward and plops down next to Clint, resting her head on her husband's stomach. Tony sighs with serenity and tips his head back, perfectly content not to move for several hours.

It feels like a post-mission, when they're all exhausted and no one wants to move or  _breathe._ After they've gotten a few minutes of sleep, someone will usually order food or make it then they'll re-load on lost calories and return to doing nothing for a few following hours. Depending on the time, sometimes they'll fall asleep in the common room like this.

The only thing missing from this being a replica is Thor.

He hasn't seen Thor  _once_ today, and slow worry is beginning to gnaw at his stomach. He has no idea where their teammate is, or what he's doing that prevented him from poking in to at least say "hi". And he doesn't know how to fix it.

He's not sure when he dozed off, but he knows when he awakens because Bruce is shaking his shoulder. He jerks slightly, head whipping up to his teammate before squinting in confusion. Bruce thins his lips and gives a light grimace.

"Akeh dropped by to tell us when dinner is."

Tony closes his eyes and bats Bruce's hand away. "Now?"

"Yeah."

Tony sighs before opening his eyes again and sitting up properly. Steve is on his feet, suit smoothed down and tie wrapped around his neck again. His blond hair has been brushed down and he looks less like a half-dead zombie and more like Captain America. Clint and Natasha are also up, Natasha's hair re-styled into the flawless half-up style and her dress smoothed. Clint's suit coat is back on and Natasha is patting down his hair looking unhappy. Bruce is also prepped and Tony mentally curses whoever decided he should sleep longer.

Usually he's more sensitive to noise than this.

He presses on his tongue painfully with his teeth before leaning forward to shove his shoes back on, grabbing his discarded tie. "Has anyone heard from Thor yet?" He questions.

His team pauses their various actions, then Steve shakes his head, "Not since yesterday."

Tony blows out a light raspberry, "You think he was eaten?" Tony saw some weird animals prowling the streets. It could have been one of those.

"Absolutely." Clint agrees, "We're going to have to avenge his death."

"Darn." Tony mutters, "Here I was thinking the suit I brought wouldn't need to be used."

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, "You brought a weapon?"

Tony looks up at him, confused, "Did anyone  _not?"_ No one denies it, and Tony is quietly vindicated.

"Thor's probably just busy." Natasha counters.

Tony nods his head in agreement, then sits up to smooth his shirt down, "Yeah, but this is  _Thor."_ He argues, "The man can make time for anything if he tries hard enough." It's true. Tony does not want to see him put in charge of a schedule because he would try to put so many things into a single day he would kill his client on accident via exhaustion.

"Yeah," Bruce agrees slowly, "but maybe it's different on Asgard." He pauses, then adds: "He's been acting weird since we got here."

Yes.

He has.

"Anxious" is not something Tony typically associates with the Asgardian, but he knows of no other word that fits correctly. Even in the brief time they spent together yesterday, Thor seemed like he might snap in half if someone poked him in the right place.

Steve sighs. "He has." He agrees with reluctance. "I don't know what to do about it."

Natasha's lips thin, "Does anyone have any ideas why?"

A few very vague ones. Thor never talks about Asgard. Where are they supposed to build their theories from? Tony's only come from mismatched sentence bits over the last five years and the observations he's gathered since arriving here. He hates this. He hates not  _knowing._

They share a look of a reluctant negative.

"A few theories," Tony admits, at last, "nothing solid."

No one has anything better.

000o000

They don't find Thor before the party that night and when they arrive, his seat is absent. They hesitantly take their places, and Tony realizes after a second that where Sigyn was sitting last night is also empty. Eir mentioned that Thor hadn't told her about Loki, and Tony's guessing that's where the two are now. Rather than loudly point this out, Tony keeps his mouth quiet.

King Odin doesn't open dinner with a grand speech, just a few words and sits back at the table. He keeps making pointed, hot glances at where Thor  _should_ be, and Tony does his best to ignore them, but can't. Queen Frigga hardly seems interested in eating her meal, she picks at the food and pushes it around the plate, staring forward at nothing.

Røkia, Sigyn's father, launches off—in detail—about some sort of political mess or another with the guy sitting next to him, and the table is immersed in such topics. For the most part, Tony avoids conversation and vividly memorizes the plate's design. This is much more awkward without Thor as a buffer. Tony sort of feels like he was roped into going into a party, but his friends ditched him and left him alone with strangers. It was rude. And he's uncomfortable.

Dinner passes, and neither Thor, nor Sigyn make an appearance, quietly settling Tony's theory into stone.

They're pushed off for more dancing, but towards the side this time there's some sort of weird games that Tony doesn't understand the rules of, nor does he have any desire to find out how to  _do_ it. Instead, he and Bruce walk around the room in large circles avoiding serving girls trying to shove Asgard's horrendous mead down their throats. The other Avengers have vanished, but they've agreed to meet in about two hours or so outside of the doors.

He and Bruce are on lap twenty-six when Bruce collides abruptly with someone. Tony comes to a halt, rocking on his toes to keep from tipping face first and turns his head in the direction of the two as Bruce begins to stutter out apologies, but stops.

Tony feels his eyebrows raise with surprise and he blurts her name on instinct of seeing her, "Sif."

The dark-haired girl looks up at them, brown eyes narrowed. "Avengers."

A tall blond appears at Sif's side a moment later, looking slightly concerned and sweeps his gaze across them. The two share a telepathic look before the man asks, "You know these fellows? Where they from?"

Sif inclines her head slightly, "Fandral, these are Thor's Avengers. From Midgard."

Fandral's eyes widen, "Ah! Yes! Of course, my mistake," he takes a step forward and lifts a hand out, "I'm told handshaking is a common greeting on Midgard, was this wrong?"

Tony doesn't offer his hand out, but Bruce takes the blond's a second later. "Um, yeah—I mean no." He reassures.

"Fandral Averson, at your service," the man greets cheerfully. He gestures behind him, past Sif, where Tony can see two others still among the moving chaos. "That's Hogun Elkwood and Volstagg Mirgson, I see you've already met Sif."

"We spoke." Tony assures curtly. She blamed them for Loki's state, and Tony can't honestly say he's had warm fuzzy feelings towards her since.

Apparently picking up on this, Volstagg makes a disapproving noise and clicks his tongue, "Now Sif, we've talked about your curt tongue—" He starts.

Fandral rolls his eyes up, "Oh, here we go."

"—You shouldn't be dumping accusations on top of random people you haven't even met yet. With your tongue  _and_  mistrust of everyone, you're—"

"—bound to get someone stabbed, yes,  _I know_." Sif finishes with annoyance. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head with exasperation. Tony and Bruce share a look of confusion. This is clearly a conversation they've had more than once, but Tony's not privy to the inside joke.

"Uh?" Tony voices.

The four turn towards him again, looking slightly startled. "Oh, right, forgive us," Volstagg avers and smiles warmly, "you're Thor's friends. Nonetheless! A friend of Thor is a friend of mine!"

Ah.

Good.

Err.

"I—ugh," Tony pauses, then shares another look with Bruce, "right."

"We should toast to this!" Volstagg declares, "What are your names, lads?"

Whoa. Wait. Did he really just call them " _lads"?_ Tony is not a lad, thank you very much.

"Tony Stark." Tony offers and Bruce hesitantly mumbles out his name. The Asgardians seem to hear it anyway, which Tony isn't too surprised about. Thor's hearing is nothing to laugh at.

Volstagg attempts to wave a serving girl over, but doesn't have much success to Tony's relief. He ignores the large red-bearded man and turns instead to Fandral, Sif and dark-moody-guy-who-doesn't-smile-and-name-might-be-José. "Speaking of Thor, have any of you seen him today?" Tony questions.

Sif and Fandral share a look and maybe-Holtan's eyes narrow darkly. "Of course," Sif answers after a second, "have you not?"

"Ah, no," Bruce admits, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Not since yesterday."

"I ran into Sigyn, though," Tony offers, "but she's not here either. Are they with Lok—" Tony starts to question, but Sif's hand slams over his mouth, muffling the words and she shares an anxious look with the three others, Volstagg's attempts coming to a halt.

"Take care for how you speak." Sif hisses into his ear lowly, "You are not aware the treachery of the palace; it runs deeper than you can  _imagine._ Do not say the prince's name aloud here lest you gain unwanted attention."

From  _who?_

Tony pauses, shares a fleeting glance with his teammate again, then nods slowly.  _Let him go. Please. Her hand smells strange._ Sif, at long last, slowly pulls her hand back and watches him with wary, mistrustful eyes.

"I'm not about to go blabbering out where he is." Tony hisses. "I like to think I have a bit more tact than that."

Sif rests her hands on her hips, brown eyes narrowing. Her three companions all look ready to commit murder and Tony is more uncomfortable than he cares to admit at this. They, from what Tony can see, would lose their  _lives_ to protect Loki, and  _take_ some as well. What the psychopath  _did_ to earn such loyalty, Tony doesn't know. He's not sure if he  _wants_ to.

_But Loki was mind controlled._

_And Tony doesn't_ know  _him._

"Thor will contact you when he can," Fandral says after a long stretch of uncomfortable silence, "be at ease. But for now, leave them be. Especially Alfheim's Princess, you don't know half of what she has had to give to keep their children safe."

Right.

The children who like rats.

 _Dead_ rats.

"Alright," Tony submits, grabbing Bruce's elbow and steering him away from Sif, Volstagg, Fandral and maybe-Hugo. When they're out of ear shot, Tony breathes sigh of relief and Bruce visibly slumps.

"I swear they think we're plotting someone's murder." Tony grumbles.

Bruce sighs. "Yeah."

Tony shakes his head slightly; he has no idea why they think that they'd pull Thor away from spending time with his coma-induced-sibling. Tony just wanted to know where he is. It's habit from Earth. Working on the Avengers does not come without challenges and someone being abducted is unfortunately more common than any of them care to admit.

Thor is just with Sigyn, visiting his younger brother. Sigyn is a  _mother._ That's strange. Then again, it is still the weirdest thing to Tony that Loki has  _kids._ He is a father. So why on earth was Sigyn buying  _dead rats?_ That seems a little rude; it's not exactly Barbies or Hotwheels.

And why did Sigyn have to leave Asgard? She never explained. What  _happened_ to tear the family apart? Tony has so many questions, but he has no idea where to go for answers. Who he can turn to without it seeming strange on his abrupt change of opinion on Loki? Or at least his sudden  _curiosity._ He's never bothered to ask Thor about his sibling before.

Why would he?

He had no reason to doubt what happened was anything beyond what they  _saw._

Asgard has to have libraries, right? It's almost been two hundred years since Loki's imprisonment, what happened between him and Sigyn has to be written down  _somewhere;_ Tony's going to get answers.

000o000

Thor, as predicted, doesn't return for the rest of the night, and the team meets briefly before heading off to bed. Unlike the previous night, Tony sleeps until well into the morning.

He stumbles out of bed with determination to find out the answers no one is providing. He doesn't bother with a tie, too tired to keep up appearances, before he slips outside of the room.

After receiving directions from a servant girl, Tony slips inside of the library.

His eyes widen and he nearly staggers backwards with surprise. The library isn't like anything Tony has ever seen. Windows are lined every twenty feet or so, casting faint daylight across the space. And that's the thing—It's  _enormous._ Walls are lined with books from ground to the high ceiling, tables are set up with high stacks of books and the floor shimmers with what is clearly a star-map.

Tony takes a few hesitant steps forward, the painfully familiar feeling of being out of place nagging at his stomach again.

He has no idea where to start.

He needs to grasp a basic understanding of how they organize their books, then he can look for history. He walks up towards the shelves and sees, to his relief, that they are marked with what's on the bookcases. The words are scribbled in multiple languages along with English. This particular shelf is listed as  _a basic beginning to farming._ Not what he's looking for.

Tony browses the library for some time, feeling utterly lost and frustrated. He's at the beginning of hour two before he runs into the first history section. He steps onto the row, scanning the titles then realizes that most everything is written in the scrawl that Tony recognizes as the language Thor takes notes in; He'll write letters in it until someone reminds him it's not English.

That's great. He wasted most of his time looking for the stupid things and the selection he can  _read_ from is so small it's pathetic. Tony releases an agitated breath and gives the edges of his hair a sharp pull.

This is stupid.

Tony blows out a breath before gathering the English-based books and plops them on the floor, taking a seat beside the bound paper. He opens the first one beginning to read. Over the next few hours, Tony learns far more about Asgard's political system than he ever really cared to know, along with how gruesomely detailed most authors are about battles.

From what Tony can pick out, history is mostly scattered before Thor's great-grandfather, but everything else is pretty chronological. There is, however, a noticeable chunk of the first hundred years or so of Thor's father's reign missing. According to one of the various books, Odin took up regency "with a bloody sword in one hand, vengeance for his slayed father in the other". Tony mostly skims where he can.

He manages to make it to the most recently dated books, but it only reaches up to the union of Loki and Sigyn, described as the Elf listed, before the book ends. There is nothing beyond that and Tony is ready to throw up his hands and be thoroughly done with today. He has spent  _hours_ searching through these stupid textbooks and it's been completely fruitless.

He wants to go back to bed.

He can try again tomorrow.

Tony closes the book and rubs under his eyes, biting back a soft cuss. He feels exhausted and he's barely touched at the volumes present in the room.

"Can I help you?"

Tony startles, looking up at the owner of the voice. An older woman is standing at the end of the bookshelves, hands lightly resting on her hips. Her long, graying hair is tumbling down her back in loose curls that contrast to the color of her dress obnoxiously.

"Uh—" Tony pauses, then gathers himself, "No, I don't think so."

The librarian hums slightly, before moving forward. "I don't think I've seen you before. Are you a thief?"

"What? No." Tony assures, "I'm a guest. For the celebration. I had some time to kill and a few questions, so I figured this was as good a place as any to find it.

"Oh?" The librarian lifts a thin eyebrow, "So you decided to go pouring across Asgard's private texts?"

They need special permission to  _read_ here? What on the—?

She lifts out a hand expectantly, and Tony reluctantly gives her the book he was reading through as he stutters out: "Um, yeah. I guess so."

The librarian frowns before closing the book and tucking it under her arm, "What is it that you're seeking so, Sir?"  _Answers. Buckets upon buckets of answers to his questions._

Tony rubs at the back of his neck and sighs quietly. "You'll think I'm crazy."

"Try me." She challenges.

Tony blows out a breath. "Alright. I'm looking for why Princess Sigyn is banished." The librarian stares at him for a long second, her eyebrows arched up her face. She's quiet for so long, Tony's lips part slightly to ask if he's offended her, but to his surprise she throws back her head and  _laughs._ Large, hearty chuckles.

She shakes her head several times then looks up at him, "Oh, you foolish mortal."

Tony bites at his tongue.

She sighs and clicks her tongue. "You're one of Prince Thor's Avengers, aren't you? I'm surprised that he hasn't explained the whole story to you—that boy never could keep his mouth shut about anything."  _Tony begs to differ._ The librarian shakes her head again.

"Well. Princess Sigyn and Loki were joined in wedlock somewhere close to three hundred fifty years ago now. It was arranged, the only reason that poor girl would be eternally bound with that murderer. Sigyn grew pregnant some decades after that, but the children never made it past birth. They tried several times without success. Loki's sanity was slipping and Sigyn couldn't risk raising children with  _that_ as a father. She gave birth to her twins, but they were...wrong. Something is disrupted with her womb, you see, it only conceives  _animals."_

Oh.

_Rats._

Sigyn was buying rats for her children, because they aren't  _human._

"Loki swore it was the work of a magician and promised a slow, painful death to whoever dared enchant his wife—but they never have found them. After birth, Sigyn took her snake-children and left for Alfheim. Most assume that she asked the King to forbid her return as a mercy. It was a political marriage and if she was banished, she could safely hide from Loki on her birth planet. I wouldn't be surprised. Loki was always awful. Probably abused the girl. I wouldn't see it being below him. We all cheered at Sigyn's release and then Odin announced Thor's coronation and Loki tried to off himself after being made regent—selfish wretch. Sigyn and Loki's tragedy become something for textbooks." The librarian waves a hand flippantly.

Tony stares at her.

Sigyn...that...it…

" _We were not unhappy together. Loki was my best friend."_

Tony can't see Sigyn  _asking_ to be removed from Asgard. She had no reason to lie to him yesterday when she said that she and Loki were happy together. But why would King Odin banish her otherwise? She hadn't done anything wrong. Not that Tony can find. Not that anyone's mentioned. And her  _children._ Who would curse someone to only conceive animals? It's barbaric.

Tony quietly blows out a breath and rises to his feet, giving a nod of thanks. "Thanks for answering. I couldn't find anything in English."

The librarian shakes her head, "You're looking at historical texts, foolish mortal, if you want current history it's on the other side of ' _a basic beginning to farming'_ ; over there _."_ She points towards where Tony started and he gawks at her for a second.

_...What?_

He lets out a long groan of frustration.

The librarian smiles thinly, "Now get out."

000o000

Tony exits the library and works his way across the palace to Clint and Natasha's room.

When he enters, he's nearly barreled over by Steve. "Tony!" The captain exclaims and grabs his shoulders, "Where have you  _been?_ It's been hours!"

_Why on earth is he…?_

Tony pauses, then looks at him confused, and starts halfheartedly: "I thought I…" no, he didn't leave a note or anything for them to find him by. Well. That was a less than wise move. Whoops? Steve looks like he might throttle him, which isn't a very pleasant thought. Tony rubs at the back of his neck and sighs quietly. "Yeah. Um. Sorry?"

Natasha pokes her head over Steve's shoulder and gives him a hard stare. It's not murderous and Tony's mildly hopefully of getting away from this without a bruise. "What were you doing?"

Tony sighs, wiggles from Steve's grip, then closes the door. "I was reading."

" _On?"_ Bruce presses, folding his arms across his chest.

Tony glances at them and presses his lips together, then blows out a slight raspberry. "Bruce and I ran into some of Thor's friends last night, including Sif, and I just...no one has given any answers on  _why_ Sigyn was banished and I wanted to know, so I looked."

Tension eases and Clint frowns slightly, "What did you find?"

Tony shrugs, "Admittedly? Not much. The librarian told me more than I found. Then she kicked me out." At their expectant faces, Tony appends: "Sigyn's cursed, according to the librarian-lady; she only gives birth to animals."

Bruce's expression clears suddenly. "The rats.  _Ah._ "

Yeah.

It's a great deal less disturbing when Tony knows about the kids. The rats. Not the kids. That's awful. No one should be punished with that. He worries his lip between his teeth and then explains further: "A few years before Thor's coronation—maybe less, she wasn't very clear—Sigyn took the kids and went back to Alfheim. No one knows why, the librarian lady said that she  _asked_ the All-Father to forbid her return as a mercy. I just...I dunno, that seems a little far fetched from what  _Sigyn's_ said. But I don't know her."

None of them do.

"But—" Bruce starts, looking flustered, then stops as the door is thrown open. All of them whirl, bodies jerking into defensive positions by habit.

Thor stumbles into the room looking like he got hit in the stomach by a manhole cover, then shoved into the awaiting sewers. Tony's feet lurch slightly.

"Thor!" Steve exclaims, "What happened? You look awful."

Thor huffs loudly. "I know, I've been told as much." He reassures, then stares at all of them, "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nothing important." Natasha promises and waves him towards the couches. Thor shifts forward in that direction and all of them follow after a moment. Tony bites at his tongue again and realizes with a dull ache that he's managed to dig to blood with his teeth. Great.

They stiffly arrange themselves in various positions across the sitting room and stare expectantly at Thor. The Asgardian sweeps his gaze across them and presses his lips together, "How was your exploration of the city yesterday?"

Awful.

Tony has little desire to go back, but he's a little nicer than to  _say_ that. Typically. His mouth is usually has no filter or a hold onto it and he blabbers out the first thing that comes to mind. It's a great distraction technique, but since Afghanistan he's gotten better at learning to  _hold_ _it._ So instead of spitting out the rather rude things he could say about Thor's people, he keeps his jaw tense and shrugs lightly before stating, curtly: "Fine."

"Did you purchase anything?" Thor questions.

"No," Steve answers, "we mostly just gawked at it."

Like fish. Adult, human, stupid fish.

Thor hums quietly. They sit in awkward silence for another minute or so before Clint launches off into great detail about one of the shop owners pets that made him jump nearly a foot into the air and Bruce yelp like a little girl. Tony, who hadn't heard this story yesterday, listens avidly with Thor. When Clint has mostly finished, Thor picks up from there, explaining in a stumbling matter about the pet, then how tired he is from being dragged around the palace yesterday by his father. Apparently political duties require you to go up and down flights of stairs again and again.

They joke about it with Thor, and the tension that has seemed to swallow the team over the last few days slows, then dissipates all together. Tony is in the middle of a snarky comment about Natasha's last sentence, when the door to the room is thrown open with a loud  _bang._

All of them jerk to their feet, bodies lurching to defensive and going to weapons stored on their persona. Tony's fingers fly towards the arc reactor, prepared to release the nano tech, but stops, surprised.

King Odin stands in the doorway, body language impassive. His expression, however, is narrowed and angry. He looks like he was just told someone kicked his favorite dog and  _he's_ the one taking the down fall for it. All is still for a single breath before King Odin turns his head towards them and bellows: " _Thor!"_

Thor leaps forward, startled; eyes wide with surprise and something that looks close to downright horror. The easy expression and laughter has been ripped from his stance and is instead replaced with fear.

What is going on?

"Thor!" King Odin exclaims once more, storming forward his staff  _clinking,_ then the door slams shut behind him with what Tony's assuming is magic. The king appears to ignore their presence entirely; he has eyes for only his son.

Thor holds his ground and his fists clench. "Father," He says curtly, voice quiet. King Odin appears to gather himself initially at it, but not enough to stop the rage from seeping through.

"What were you thinking, boy? Where were you last night?" The King demands, coming to a halt about a foot in front of Thor.

Thor stammers slightly, "I—I…" Was a bit busy visiting his wayward brother with his sister-in-law. Tony has his doubts it would be a great idea to admit that.

"Bah!" King Odin exclaims, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling in irritation, "You fífl! Do you not know what you have done? This is a celebration of peace between our realms and you, the  _crown prince,_ did not even bother to arrive last night! You are an embarrassment!"

Thor flinches. "Father, I—"

"I don't want to hear excuses,  _child._ You are well beyond the age where we can allow such things to slide by. What of our image to the people? They need their royalty to stand strong in this time of need and  _you are not._ You are to busy weeping the loss of the brother you never had."

Thor's stance ripples and he lifts a hand up to point at his father, "You have no right—"

" _He was publicly disowned from our family!"_ King Odin exclaims, "You  _cannot_  claim him!"

Thor pauses, then says anyway with a stupid streak of stubborn defiance: " _I_ have not disowned him, Father."

King Odin's nostrils flare, "So you admit to it then? At long last, despite Treacherous Heimdall's tightly sealed lips, the truth comes flapping out through your own. This is what my legacy is to be? You, my son, leading the forefront of a  _civil war."_

Thor blanches, "That is  _not what—"_ he starts in desperation, but he never finishes the sentence. King Odin's expression flares and the glimmering staff of gold-points smashes into Thor's face. Thor's head whips heavily to the side, wounds splitting from the edge of his chin across his cheek to his nose, and he releases a slight kneeing noise.

Anger is supposed to be hot. It's supposed to be red, fiery, and an uncontrollable rage to do nothing but  _destroy._ But fury is different. Fury is cold and calculating, it is the promise that the suffering will be drawn, slow, and painful.

Fury sweeps across Tony like a cold blanket being wrapped around his shoulders, and it doesn't let him go.

_Odin touched his teammate._

_He made him_ bleed.

_How dare he._

"Do you take me for a fool, boy!?  _I know what you did!"_ Odin rages, like nothing unusual has happened. Thor brings a hand to wipe the worst of the blood off of his face, his fingers staining a deep crimson. His gaze does not lift off the ground.

The team moving forward silently, though Tony can't recall when it started.

"I am innocent of treason!" Thor defends.

"Ha! A liar you are not. You are loyal to a fault to those who do not deserve it. It is your weakness, a king does not keep any close, Thor, you know better than to be forming such dangerous relationships. Then again—you have always been a bit dull." Odin huffs, then his eyes narrow. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy!"

Odin makes a move for Thor's face, again, but this time, they're ready. Bruce catches the old kings wrist before it can make contact with Thor's skin as he and Steve pull Thor back, shoving the Asgardian behind them. Natasha and Clint stand on either side, bodies braced in a fighting stance.

Odin seems mildly surprised at Bruce's intrusion, but it quickly fades to anger, "Unhand me, mortal!" He growls.

Bruce's expression is livid and Tony can see his coiled muscles straining. "Get out."

"I am  _king,_ Mortal, you have no proper authority to—"

Bruce violently twists Odin's arm and the Asgardian makes a noise of pain. " _Get. Out."_ Tony can hear the barest edge of Hulk present, burning through Bruce's voice with the promise of violence. Bruce releases Odin's arm and shoves him back towards the door as Natasha lifts a gun Tony's not surprised she had on hand and clicks the safety off. Thor is watching them with wide eyes. Odin stares at all of them for a long few seconds before he wisely backs off, storming towards the door and slams it when he exits. All of them immediately release and Tony turns back towards his teammate, staring at the gashes.

The blood makes him furious, but revenge can come later, Thor can't.

Three long cuts are erratically spaced and the skin isn't split smoothly. It looks painful and is going to bleed a bit, simply because of where it's placed. They stand still for less than a second before as one unit, they guide Thor towards one of the couches and force him to sit.

Thor looks dazed.

Bruce steps forward, Tony and Steve moving to make room, but neither one of them, he's fairly certain, has any plans to go further than a few feet. Bruce's expression is still angry, yet Tony's pretty sure that his isn't much better.

He knew that Odin was...temper prone for lack of a better word by a few complaints Thor made over the years, but he never realized that he would  _hit his own child._

It is disgusting.

Bruce gently takes Thor's chin and turns it towards the light, frowning. "Nat," he addresses, breaking the quiet that had settled over them and Thor flinches at the sound of his voice. They pretend not to notice. "Go get me a wet cloth from the bathroom. Steve, see if you can find some sort of bandages."

Both move to complete their tasks, but hesitate at Thor's voice: "I don't understand why you're doing this, it will heal given time."

"It's bleeding Thor." Clint states simply, his voice is carefully even.

"I know," Thor assures, moving to wipe more of the blood away, "but this is hardly the first time."

Tony lives with two professional assassins, he's a certified genius, and he knows where the best parts to hit or stab for a instantiations death are. He can get away with murder. And right now, he's tempted.

Natasha and Steve move to gather the supplies and Tony stiffly takes a seat next to Thor. "That doesn't make it better." He says.

Thor stares at him, expression puzzled. "I don't understand."

"Goldilocks," Clint says and climbs onto the top of the couch, perching with ease as he stares at Thor, "what he just did is  _not_ okay."

"He's angry." Thor says, but he sounds tired suddenly.

"So are we." Bruce says calmly, and Thor's eyes flick up to him with weariness. Bruce rests a hand on the Asgardians knee, "Hey,  _hey_ , not at you, Thor, it's okay. You know that we would never hurt you."

Next person to touch a hair on Thor's—or any member of his team for that matter—is going to get the toaster over the head. And a broom. And a repulser to the face. And then he'll sick Pepper on them, and  _she'll_ finish the job and leave them reduced to tears. Needless to say, he's trying very,  _very_ hard to remind himself that he can't reasonably grab Odin in a throttle and rattle him back and forth.

_How dare he._

_What gives him that right?_

Thor's lips purse and he sighs, "I know." He assures, "I know."

Tony shakes his head and hesitantly reaches a hand out to rest against Thor's upper arm. The Asgardian lifts his head slightly to look at him, but is halted from completely staring at his face by Bruce's gentle hand. Tony breathes out a quiet sigh. "You've been spending a lot of time on Earth. Is this why?"

Thor fidgets and his face drains of color. "I… _I..._ " He trails, beginning to anxiously twist at his fingers. It's habit that Tony recognizes to originate from Bruce; sometimes he honestly has to worry that the gamma scientist is going to twist off his fingers.

Natasha and Steve return and hand Bruce their findings. Bruce takes them gratefully before shifting forward, beginning to clean at the blood. Thor flinches at the touch, but thins his lips and closes his eyes tightly.

Tony shares a helpless look with Steve.

He has no idea what to do.

He's not a therapist and he's barely managing with his  _own_ awful childhood, he doesn't know how to help Thor, even if he wants to. He's helpless, and he  _hates it._

Thor sighs and Tony sees Natasha and Steve take a seat side by side on the coffee table. Natasha's eyebrows are meeting with her anxiety, but Tony can see the fury hidden beneath her blue-green. Steve's posture is rigid, but like the spider next to him, he too, has hidden fury in his gaze. Tony breathes out slowly before turning back to Thor.

Apparently sensing their combined stares, Thor releases a slight groan. "You aren't going to let this go, are you?"

 _Why_  should  _they!?_

"No." Steve assures.

Thor blows out a soft raspberry, his face twitching when Bruce pulls the rag away and begins to dry the skin. "It...I...my father is a proud man." Thor begins slowly, "He expects all who carry his name to deserve it. My brother and I's entire teenage years were spent in competition for his attention and approval because of this. We were raised of noble birth, there was no where else we could turn for praise without achieving judgement. I was better at gaining my father's approval than my sibling."

Clint presses his lips together, "Sigyn and Loki. That was a thing because your father didn't think her worthy of you?"

Thor flinches, but nods mutely. "They were closer in age as well. Admittedly, Loki and I always knew that I would be king and Loki would serve Asgard by whatever political marriage our father could drag together, it just came much sooner than either of us expected."

Like the fact they were seventeen.

"Much sooner".

It's still crazy.

Thor shakes his head slightly, "But my father never...he angers easily and he struggles with controlling his wrath. Neither Loki or I were exempt from this."

"So this is often?" Natasha guesses, her voice is laced with an under edge Tony can't quite place. It's hot, though, rather than the cold steal she usually carries in her voice when she's plotting someone's murder.

Thor closes his eyes again, "Often enough."

Tony swears under his breath. Steve shoots him a warning look, but Tony can't reign in his tongue. This isn't right. He can't believe they missed  _all_ of this. How blind have they  _been!?_ He can't stand this. Thor is like a brother to him and Tony refuses to let him live like this anymore. "No." Tony says firmly and Thor looks up at him slightly, confused, the rest of his team follows suit.

"No," Tony repeats. "No, we're not leaving you here to deal with... _that._ I refuse. You're coming back with us and  _staying_ until further notice. You don't  _have_ to take up regency until he's kicked the bucket, right?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Good." Tony says sharply, "I'm not leaving you here."

Thor pauses, then sighs, "Tony, I really can't—"

"Ah ah." Tony interrupts, lifting up a hand to cut him off. "No talking. It's not a request, it's a promise of a kidnapping."

The Asgardian gives him an exasperated look. "No. Stop. I can't leave, even as much as I would like to."

"Why?" Steve demands.

Thor pinches his lips together, "My brother is still here. I can't leave him as he is. When he awakens I could smuggle him out of Asgard, but for now...my father demands complete dominance from those under his reign, Loki's Rebels have disrupted that, and my father has convinced himself if he removes Loki from the picture permanently, the unease will settle."

So—that, um. Hmm.

Great.

"But Loki is still sick," Thor charges forward, "and he's not getting  _better._ He needs more time, time that we can't  _give him._ I can't leave him as he is. Sigyn would love to take him, but Alfheim is to deeply affected by Asgard's rule. My father's spies would have him assassinated before the doctors could make him well. How can I leave at a time like this?"

Tony pauses, then bites at his tongue. As selfish as it is, Tony wants to grab Thor's shoulders and rattle him back and forth crying "it doesn't matter so long as  _you're_ alive", but he knows that Thor wouldn't care. He's to selfless. He cares to strong and deeply. Loki may have tried to murder him and all of them, but to Thor he's still a younger brother, and Thor won't leave him behind.

But Tony refuses to leave  _Thor_ behind either.

What are they supposed to do?

They can't stay here forever, but they need to get Thor out of this. And by extension, Loki. If they can provide a place for Loki to get better, Thor will come with them. Tony doesn't care if he has to build a Pyramid of Giza by himself, he is  _getting Thor out of here._ If he has to drag Loki's sorry butt along with them, so be it.

But where do they  _put_ Loki?

Tony doesn't know of any planets they could stick him on for a little as they wait and—wait.

What if…

_What if…_

"What if we took Loki back with us to Earth?" Clint suggests and all of them lift their gazes to him. Tony was thinking along the same lines, but it's still startlingly to hear it from someone else's mouth. Especially  _his._  Clint's eyes are tight around the edges and the displeasure at the suggestion is clear, but his support to it isn't wavering. He wants to get Thor out of here as much as Tony does.

They all do.

Thor gawks at Clint for several seconds. "I…" He trails.

"Yeah," Steve agrees after a moment, "he's mostly harmless, we can find somewhere for him to rest and get better."

"But  _where?"_ Thor pushes; he doesn't seem against the idea, and Tony feels something in his chest loosen with relief. "I don't know of any such places."

"Stark Medical." Tony suggests, "I have multiple facilities across the U.S., and dozens of others elsewhere. I know most of the staff in New York, though, and Pepper hand picked those in the Tower." Is he  _really_ suggesting this? Is he really opening his home _—their home_ to someone like Thor's younger brother? A murderer? A madman?

Thor pauses, thinking, then his shoulders slump with defeat. "Fine. I do not know how long I can feign this, but a break would be appreciated."

But Loki wasn't the one behind the attack; he is as guilty as Clint is.

And he's besides that sick, wretchedly ill and his chances of survival without furthered brain activity are slim. Tony isn't heartless. Nor is he stupid. If this is the way that things play out, they'll have to tread carefully, but they'll make it work.

_They're getting Thor out of here._

000o000

In an effort to avoid another correspondence such as this morning with Odin, they drag Thor with them to the celebration that night. None of them really  _want_ to be here, but they will be because it's expected of them, and they don't have a plan for smuggling Thor and Loki out of the city yet.

According to Thor, Heimdall was among those that vouched for Loki's freedom and he swears that they can trust him to assist them. Which is relieving, because Tony has no idea how to get out of Asgard except via the Bifrost. Their escape plans are slow in coming, but they're coming and that's something, right?

After another awkward dinner that Thor refuses to look at his parents for and Tony spends a majority of the time swishing the weird jelly-like substance around on the plate, they arise and group together to awkwardly watch as the Asgardians and others play  _more_ strange games. Tony's never been a sports person, but the rules are very over his head. Thor attempts to explains and eventually gives up when none of them can grasps it and the weird exceptions such as: "if so and so elbows  _that_ guy in the nose, his team gets six points, but if  _he_ gets elbowed in the nose the score for both teams is set to zero".

After about an hour of this with Clint occasionally making snippy comments that Natasha elbows him in the stomach one time for when someone hears him, Sigyn walks up to them. She's covered in a bit of dust that Tony doesn't really want to know the origin of, and her hair is loose—a strange contrast to the elaborate styles the others are flaunting. Tony does notice, however, that unlike yesterday the gleam of despair that enveloped her is lifted considerably. Her eyes are red from what Tony's assuming are tears.

"Your father is looking for you," Sigyn announces to Thor and, when all of them tense, her gray eyes narrow slightly. "He looked angry."

Thor rubs at his forehead. "He's looked angry since the day I was born." He grumbles under his breath. Sigyn gives a humorless huff and her gaze lingers on the team before she returns it to Thor and squints. Her breath gives a small hitch before she closes her eyes and shakes her head softly, then turns to grab Thor's chin and tilt the mostly faded bruise and cuts into her sight better.

Tony's halfway expecting a violent reaction, but Sigyn's gaze just lingers before she draws her hand back and presses her lips together. This is all the proof that Tony needs that dragging Loki's crazy butt with them down to Earth will be worth it.

Thor clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable, then flicks a hand out towards the games, "Do you remember when Fandral tried to participate in that, but slipped and accidentally broke Tyr's favorite axe?"

Sigyn smirks lightly, "Tyr was furious about it for weeks. Fandral blamed Loki, yes?"

Thor's expression drops, "Yeah."

Tony quietly rests his head in his hand and sighs.

A few minutes of stretched silence pass between them.

"I should probably go find my father," Thor admits at last. Tony lifts his head and sees five equal stares of disapproval reflected at the Asgardian. Thor sighs irritably and lifts his head up towards the ceiling, "For the love of the Norns—" he starts, but is cut off as a loud shout of Thor's name pierces through the boisterous crowd around them.

"Prince Thor!" It's male, and Tony whirls to find the source, spotting a young man rushing towards them. He's blond with a strong build and light facial hair.

The man comes to a stop in front of their group, gasping quietly, "My prince!" He chokes out, "My mother sent me."

"What?" Thor grabs his shoulders as Sigyn shifts forward, eyes wide with alarm, "Does this have to do with her patient, did something happen? Hogun swore he would protect him from another assassination attempt and—"

"It has nothing to do with that, my lord!" The man exclaims.

_Whoa._

Wait.

" _Another assassination attempt"!?_

They're starting to draw unwanted attention, so Thor and the man exhale quietly before Thor releases him. "What did Madame Eir want?" Thor questions, lowering his voice. This is  _Eir's_ son? Tony wasn't even aware she had children.

Surprise?

"It's your brother, my lord," the man draws in a bare whisper, "he's  _awakened."_

000o000

Thor throws out a bare excuse to his guard for his father, stops briefly only for Sigyn to inform her father that she's feeling ill before the seven of them take off to Eir's residence. Tony has no idea where Eir's son went, but he doesn't make the journey back to the estate with them.

This journey is less carefully mapped out than the last one, but they still manage to avoid most of the guard and those that do see them Thor sends off on fools errands. Thor shoves open the door to the house and quickly works his way throughout the rooms, Sigyn following breathlessly.

When they arrive in Loki's room, Tony immediately notices that the lights are dimmer. Hogun is standing to the side, silent as ever and Eir is standing a few feet from the bed, though it's obvious she wants to be closer. Loki's chest is heaving in what Tony recognizes as the beginning of a panic attack.

His stomach twists with sympathy and a horrified realization that, despite how much Tony has been pretending otherwise for the last five years, Loki is  _not_ an emotionless killing machine. He's  _panicking._

_Tony has no idea what to do with this information._

Eir is speaking in quiet tones to the dark-haired prince, but the words she's saying sound like mostly nonsense. Her distance of at least six feet is still, in a quite painfully obvious way, pushing at Loki's boundaries.

The Asgardian is sitting up, shaking hand over his stomach as he heaves out breaths, a sort of strange hissing rattle being dragged through his bloody lips. It looks awful and painful. His dark hair is tangled across his face and his remaining hand is fisted in the blankets tightly. He looked gaunt and sickly when he was asleep, but it's more prominent now. His face is sharp and hollow.

Sigyn makes a little hiccuping noise and Thor skitters to a stop behind him, both with wide eyes.

Tony stops in the doorway, suddenly aware how much they are out of place here. Loki is not their friend. He's not family. The most they know him as is an insane psychopath bent on world domination and a murderer. Why are they  _here?_

Sigyn moves forward slowly, as if she's being tugged by a string, and Eir draws her words to a close as their party enters. Loki's head tilts up at what Tony's guessing is the lack of noise then his green eyes flit anxiously across the room before landing on his wife. His body stills and the ragged hisses stop as Loki's breathing hitches.

Both are still for several long seconds, eyes rapidly searching the other. They haven't seen each other in decades, Tony remembers abruptly. This isn't like when Tony finally sees Pepper again after a week long business trip or he returns after a particularly aggressive mission. This is months upon years of separation, the only communication permitted between them being  _letters._

Sigyn exhales sharply before crossing the final bit of distance between them. She collapses on the mattress across from Loki, then hesitantly lifts a hand out to rest against his cheek. Loki's bony fingers come to grip her hand as if making sure she's real before Sigyn shifts forward slightly and presses a light kiss against his forehead.

"Dearest One," she whispers, her voice thick. They rest their foreheads against each other, then Sigyn murmurs something else in Asgard's native tongue. Loki makes a choking noise before wrapping his arms around Sigyn and pulling her close for a desperate hug. Both begin to weep openly; Tony feels like he's intruding.

He's observing something desperately private and  _he is not wanted here._

Loki keeps making little pained noises and after a period of time, the hug loosens and Sigyn pulls back to gently take Loki's shaking hands into her own. Loki keeps trying to part his lips to say something, but the thread keeps them pulled taut and blood keeps trailing down his chin. Sigyn sighs quietly in what Tony suspects is an effort to stop more tears then takes one of the rags from off of the side table, wiping off the liquid. "Dear One, please stop," Sigyn whispers, "you're only going to hurt yourself further."

Tony doesn't want to be here.

Not only is he not  _wanted,_ he doesn't  _want._

This is painful to watch and makes something in him squirm that he'd much rather leave dormant.

Sigyn twists in her position, and waves Thor forward. "Come," she calls, tilting her head to reassure him. Thor rocks on his heels before moving towards the mattress and falling to his knees beside it. He takes one of Loki's shaking hands in his own and Tony can see that his eyes are brimmed and wet.

"Loki, I am so sorry." Thor whispers, "I swear to you that had I known what happened I would have stopped Father from taking such drastic action. I really—"

Tony doesn't hear the rest of the heartfelt apology. His stomach gives a violent heave and he stumbles out of the room and into the hall to escape the suffocation before it strangles him completely. He isn't the only one. The rest of the team, save Thor, follow after him and quietly close the door behind them.

Tony presses a hand against the wall, flexing his fingers in and out.

Breathe. Breathe.  _Breathe._

"Well." Bruce voices. He doesn't finish his thought. Tony doesn't expect much more from him. They're all trying to process this, but no one exactly left them a self-helping-guide book.

Tony blows out a breath through his teeth and sighs quietly. Thor's entire family, extended included, is a mess. Tony didn't realize how much until a few days ago. He always knew that Loki wasn't quite right in the head, but now he's starting to think that his first impression of the Asgardian was completely warped.

Loki  _wept._

_Villains don't cry._

At least, not one's like  _him._

But he did. Maybe taking him with them to Earth won't be such an awful decision. Tony turns to Steve, "Do we have a plan of attack for taking them back with us?" He questions.

"Sort of," Steve admits, tilting his head, "it's more solidified now than it was before. It will be easier to take them out of the city with Loki awake."

Definitely.

"As of right now, I'm not quite sure how to get past the guards and across the Bridge without someone seeing us. We need cover or a distraction."

"Like what?" Natasha questions, lifting a brow in Steve's direction, "This isn't Earth, what we can do here is limited."

True.

What  _can_ they do as a distraction? Even if they take horses, it will still take at least forty minutes to get from here to the Observatory, and factoring in avoiding guards and trying to be seen by as few people as possible and the time increases exponentially.

"Fire?" Clint suggests, shifting his weight.

"No. We aren't becoming arsons." Steve says firmly. Not that they  _haven't_ lit something on fire before, but it's a warming thought.

"They had a lot of animals in the stables, right?" Natasha questions. "What if we started a stampede?"

"Because  _that_  always ends well," Tony jabs quickly before anyone can say anything else. "You ever seen  _The Lion King_ , Nat?"

She shoots him an irritated glance. "Yes. It's just a suggestion. What do  _you_ propose we do then?"

Tony shrugs helplessly. "It's like you said. Our options are limited, I didn't bring any tech with me to create a distraction—" Tony stops, his eyes widening slightly as a realization comes to him, "why on earth are  _we_ trying to form a diversion when Odin has prepared one for us?"

His team stares at him blankly for a long second before Bruce's eyes glimmer with understanding. "Oh _,"_ he breathes, " _oh."_

"The peace celebration," Steve murmurs quietly, "most everyone is in the palace by that point and it leaves the streets vulnerable and  _empty._ That could work. We'll have to leave before the week is up, though."

"I don't think anyone's going to shed any tears." Clint assures, gently patting Steve on the arm. "It hasn't exactly been island paradise here."

Fair.

Steve looks between them. "Alright. It's settled. Tomorrow night we go."

000o000

The next day is spent largely in hidden, but strangely open, panic. They attempt to seem casual with everything they're doing, but the fact that they're hiding something is blatantly obvious to a trained eye. This isn't their first covert operation, but they've never had to kidnap the crown prince and smuggle a man wanted dead from another  _world_ before.

So yeah.

Anxious.

Tony is grateful that he didn't really bother to unpack, because it makes getting from the city that much easier. The day still passes much too quickly. One moment, Tony is attempting to make sure he's gathered everything for the sixtieth time, the next they're gathered in Natasha and Clint's room and Thor is stuffing clothing into their hands.

"Recognition could mean execution," Thor explains quickly, "wear these."

Tony lifts up the cloak and flicks his gaze up to Thor for a second before quietly hoping Thor knows what he's doing as he tugs the cloak over his frame and pulling the hood over his head, then tugging the balaclava over his nose. The addition makes him feel strangely hot, but he does his best to ignore it.

A quick glance at his teammates assures him that everywhere beyond their eyes is mostly covered now.

"What's this?" Bruce asks, fingering the design embroidered into the sleeve. It looks like two snakes gnawing at each other's tails in an infinity loop.

Thor hesitates.

"It's...the—uh," he blows out a breath, "Loki's crest. The Snake's Children have been using it with their protesting."

Tony draws back slightly, "Whoa. Wait.  _These_ are your super secret rebel clothes? Are we going to get murdered for wearing them?"

Thor shakes his head, "I have my doubts. If we get caught," Thor shrugs his shoulders and gives a helpless look before pulling up the balaclava, "well, probably."

Steve makes a face and sighs. "Right."

Thor leads them from the palace, through the city in a path that Tony now has mapped out in his head. His memory has always been a curse and this time is no different. They arrive at Eir's house in less than an hour and the door is opened by her son before Thor can officially knock.

They're waved inside the house to the room that Loki has been staying at before Tony sees Eir. Loki is sitting up on the bed, legs swung over the edge with Eir fussing over bandaging drawn across his forearms.

"—don't try to pick anything up for a few days," she's explaining to him, "and try to take it easy. This is not an invitation for you to ignore me. And for the love of the Norns, do  _not_ attempt to reach for your sedir."

Loki makes a face. The expression is so bizarre from previous emotions Tony's seen associated with him that Tony nearly doubletakes.

Eir gives him a hard look. "I mean it. You know what will happen."

She tightens the bandages then looks up at them, "Well, I think that is everything. Healing will be slow, but it will come. If he starts to be to much of a pain just tie him down." Loki scowls in her direction. Eir lightly smacks his upper arm. "Oh, don't you start. You know how awful of a patient you are."

Tony shares a look with Bruce.

Thor moves forward; Eir gently cups the side of Loki's face, careful to avoid the stitches and smiles fondly, but sadly, "Be safe, my prince. I don't want to see you here again until Odin's passing."

Loki gives a slight dip of his head and lifts a shaking fist over his heart, giving a low bow of respect. Eir's smile grows strained before she turns to Thor. "Look after each other," she requests, wrapping him in a tight hug. "I'll see you when you are to become our king."

Thor squeezes her tighter before murmuring a few words in Asgard's native tongue.

As Thor moves to help Loki to his feet, Eir turns to them. "Keep them alive, well and safe or I promise you Asgard's wrath will fall upon the six of you and it will not be pleasant. Ragnarok will look like a gentle stroll compared to the pain you will suffer."

That's to the point.

"We will." Natasha assures, "For their sake I hope we don't have to see each other again."

Eir smiles lightly, "Indeed, Miss Romanov, indeed."

Thor hands Loki one of the cloaks and the younger lifts an eyebrow in response before swinging it around his shoulders and tugs the hood over his head, shrouding his face from view. He doesn't bother with the ninja-face-mask-thing and Tony isn't surprised. His lips are a bloody mess and the faintest pressure must be agony.

Thor grabs one of Loki's hands and swings it around his shoulders, helping Loki's swaying to stop. The younger of the two looks worse on his feet, moments from collapsing or throwing up. Without Thor's steadying hand, Tony's not sure he'd be on his feet.

Loki makes brief eye contact with them, but it's fleeting and his gaze quickly returns to the floor.

Alright.

Part one of operation kidnapping complete. They made it to Eir's house without being caught. That's something. Hopefully everyone will be engaged in the celebrations they are ignoring that they don't realize Thor is missing.

Admittedly, everything goes fairly well a lot longer than Tony was expecting. They manage to avoid most of the patrols, but they're on the outskirts of Serenity leading to the Bifrost Bridge when it happens: "Hey! You there!"

Tony's spine lurches with panic.

_Crap, crap, crap, crap—_

"Identify yourselves!" The same voice calls and all of them turn painstakingly slow to face the Einherjar gathered together. There's a group of four with more gaining interest from behind them. Tony quietly breathes out a curse. The streets are void of people save the guards and they were  _so close,_ but they didn't quite make it and—

The Einherjar come to a halt abruptly as the cloaks are revealed, the crest white thread standing out among the black frays like neon lighting. Tony sees Thor tighten his grip on his sibling an infinitesimal amount as his teammates hands slowly shift to their weapons.

They're getting out of here.

One way or another.

"Snake's Children," One spits with a fine mustache growing across his lips, eyes narrowing, "should have known that you'd want to spoil the peace again." He levels a sword towards their faces. "Identify yourselves." He commands hotly.

None of them answer.

"I am Captain Hrifi, son of Ulteged, victoring leader of the War of Glass and Marble.  _Who goes there?"_

Tony is abruptly glad that their faces are shrouded in cloth, identification isn't something that they need to add to the pile. No speaking, then...but they're  _going_ to have to fight their way out of this anyway, and he doubts anyone but Earth makes weapons like they do.

Right.

Bearing this in mind, Tony pulls down the face mask, shakes off the hood and unclasps the cape from his shoulders. Apparently realizing with equal reluctance how useless the endeavor of hiding their identities is, Natasha, Clint, Steve and Bruce follow suit. Thor and Loki they can still hide. They  _have_ to, because Tony doesn't really want something worse than Ragnarok reigned down on their heads.

Captain Hrifi makes a low noise, "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

He has no idea who they are, or he would be.

Natasha tilts her head back towards Thor and murmurs in low Russian, "M' pokroyem tebya.  _Idti._ "

_We'll cover you. Go._

Tony doesn't know if the Asgardians understand Russian (and he has his doubts), but they're taking a chance anyway. Thor nods, doesn't respond and turns to run with Loki as Tony lifts up a hand to tap against his arc reactor, letting the nanotech spread across his body. His face plate builds across his face and the familiar screens appear.

Jarvis is absent, and the realization is almost like a physical blow.

The low whine of the repulser rings through the air as his teammates pull their weapons out. When the Asgardians shift into a fighting stance, they move to block Thor's position. "We're the Avengers." Tony says and tilts his head slightly, "Sort of like Earth's Mightiest Heroes."

" _Midgardians."_ Someone growls out.

Yep. Proud to be one.

Tony flashes a glance towards Steve for confirmation and the captain gives a low nod before he and his team dive into the frays

After nearly six minutes of intense battle with no casualties, but a good degree of injuries and public property destruction, Steve calls a retreat. They quickly, and effectively, draw back from the battle. Tony grabs Natasha outstretched hand, tugging her into the air with him as Hulk grabs Clint and Steve, jumping in the direction of the Bifrost Bridge.

After another lapse of time, they land with thuds at the end of the bridge.

It's still gleaming with bright phosphorescent colors bursting beneath their toes, but after all they've learned about Asgard since their arrival, Tony would be lying to say that it doesn't seem a little less impressive. A facade wrapped around the hotty, prideful country attempting to cover up bleeding wounds with sheets of paper.

Thor is already there quietly speaking with Heimdall. Loki is slumped against the stairs of the Bifrost Bridge, head tipped back and eyes closed, but he's tightly gripping Sigyn's hand. Husband and wife are sitting side by side, Sigyn gently stroking her thumb across Loki's palm.

Sigyn, who is  _not supposed to be here._

Tony disassembles the armor and moves into the room, "We bought a few minutes," he addresses Thor, "but we need to leave now."

"I'm coming as well," Sigyn announces. Is she now? Tony looks at her, then to Steve.

Steve's fingers clench before he shakes his head, "I'm not going to fight you, if you want to come, that's your decision. What about your children?"

Sigyn waves a hand, "They are in trusted hands. My sister will care for them until I return with their father." Her grip tightens around Loki's fingers, but the trickster doesn't seem  _here_ enough to realize it.

"The guards are making haste to the palace," Heimdall announces, drawing all of them to the present. Tony plays the words through his head again, then cusses quietly.

"Alright," Steve says, giving him a pointed look before turning to Heimdall, "take us through, we don't want to get caught here."

Tony honestly has no idea what would happen.

Beheading? Prison? They  _are_ kidnapping two princes, and technically now a princess. This is great. It should be his new side hobby. They gather in front of the far wall with Loki strung in a limp between his brother and his wife, before Heimdall shoves his sword into the dais.

"I will delay them as long as I can." He informs as the gears begin to shift and the gateway opens.

"You have my thanks, Heimdall." Thor avers, "Tell Mother I'm sorry."

"Go." Heimdall prods, then adds, "good luck", before twisting his weapon and they're pulled through the Bifrost, spiraling down towards Earth.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be out...I really don't know. I'm estimating it's going to be long and I'll need some time to write it, but that also really depends how it writes out instead of how it plans. :) I'm going to aim for April 5th or 12th for a update date (I know it's far away and I'm so sorry!). My life has sort of been a mess as of the late and my mental health has taken a plunge of an impressive feat *grimacing smile* so we'll see. I love you all!
> 
> Until the next chapter! =)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annd, I'm early! :D Yay! Thank you so much for your responses and concern last chapter. :) Warm and fuzzies here. You're all amazing, don't you dare forget that, loves! ;D
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Surgical procedure, violence, emotional trauma, ANGST, some gore, mentions of child abuse, anxiety attacks, and general Odin's A+Parenting. Please take care of yourselves, loves! :)
> 
> Sorry for any grammar/spelling errors!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing! :)

* * *

 

 _"_ _Father, father, unforgivable._

_This is my house, you made it personal._

_It's always trouble when they go to far,_

_Nobody mess with my familia."_

-Nicki Minaj, Anuel AA, Bantu, "Familia"

* * *

With the grace of a sumo-wrestler attempting to do a triple pirouette, Tony stumbles onto the landing pad of Avengers Tower, feet tangling beneath him. Unlike before—when he managed to remain mostly standing—he gracefully stumbles to his knees, ramming his elbow hard against the surface. The pain is sharp and  _hot,_ and he bites sharply at his tongue to withhold an aggressive profanity, then awkwardly, in a jerking movement, rises to his feet attempting to find some semblance of balance. It isn't strong, but he manages.

Yes.

Alright.

Note to self: Bifrost travel is not for him.

Tony blinks sharply and swallows the urge to vomit as he sucks in New York's thick, smoggy air. After days that feel like years on Asgard, the sudden contrast between the two airs is abrupt and almost sharp. Tony would be lying to admit that the familiar smog of Manhattan isn't relieving. Comforting. Safe.

_Not Asgard._

He hopes, sincerely, that until Thor is crowned (which will probably be well after Tony's passed to that great beyond) that he  _never_ has to step a foot into Asgard again.  _Ever._ A golden cage is still a cage and he  _hates_ being trapped. Tony clears his throat, swallows any remaining urge to vomit sharply, then chances a glance towards the others.

Bruce is picking himself off the ground, but everyone else appears to have already stood, or landed on their feet. Given the fact that Natasha is a murderous ballerina, Clint a trained assassin, Steve regularly jump out of airplanes (idiot), and the others are native to this form of travel, Tony isn't feeling to terrible about himself.

Thor and Sigyn steady the bundle between them and Tony sees Sigyn sweep her gaze across the city, her gray eyes wide with surprise. Tony rubs at the dizziness between his eyes and takes a stumbling step forward. Why is this way worse on Earth? Does Asgard have more gravity than Earth? Hmm. Science questions for later.

Right now he doesn't want to think about Asgard.

At all.

"Welcome to Avengers Tower," Tony introduces, swinging a hand out in the building's general direction. "The humble abode we call home is quite large, so I'll have someone print you a map. Urgh," Tony pauses, realizing that there's more than a hundred floors and that plan isn't helpful, "actually, we'll introduce you to Jarvis."

Sigyn's brow flickers with confusion.

Loki's gaze is sweeping across the space as well, as if looking for something but not quite finding it. The Asgardian's attempting to stand, but Tony can see that even between his wife and his brother the fact that he's upright is a miracle.

Tony thins his lips sharply and turns to walk down the landing pad in the direction of the penthouse, everyone else trailing after them. The door opens and Tony flicks his gaze towards where Jarvis's camera is located, giving a nod of thanks.

"Welcome home, Sir, you arrived faster than previously expected," Jarvis greets calmly. Tony clenches his fists at his side. Yeah. Just a tad. Rather than give him a chance to reply, Jarvis, ever the respectful AI begins to greet the other Avengers: "Miss Romanov, Mr. Barton, Mr. Rogers, Dr. Banner, Mr. Odinson and—"

_Curse the flipping—_

_Crap._

Jarvis hasn't been present for the last five days. He has  _no idea_ what happened on Asgard, and the fact that they are home with guests in tow wasn't planned for. Especially Sigyn and  _Loki._ That was not expected. (How  _could_ they plan for it!?). Jarvis has truly evolved beyond simple code to a AI and as of such he has a bit of...Tony doesn't know how to put it exactly. A protective rage of a mother bear whose cub was just murdered in front of her. Yeah, that sounds about right.

He's normally very calm and collected.

Thor, Sigyn, and Loki make it about four steps into the penthouse before the twenty plus weapons that Jarvis has access to are drawn and pointing towards husband and wife, red lines waving at them and safety clicked off. "You are not welcome here, Mr. Odinson and guest," Jarvis says sharply, "you have ten seconds to leave before safety protocols are activated."

_Rainbow, butterfly, unicorn, fluttering through the—_

Tony swears loudly and dives in front of the two, stretching his hands out to block as much as he can. From the corner of his eye, he sees Thor shove Loki and Sigyn behind him, expression mirroring his panic. "Jarvis!" Tony exclaims, his voice raising a pitch, "Stand down! They're not hostile."

" _Sir!"_

Tony blows out a breath and resists the urge to pinch between the bridge of his nose, "Look a lot happened on Asgard that I'll explain later, right now it would just be helpful if you didn't blow off Loki and Sigyn's heads."

Jarvis is quiet.

Which...that's less than great.

He's mad and likely confused.

Tony closes his eyes for a brief moment, quietly  _willing_ this entire thing to be over before he gathers himself together as best he can and opens them. "J.," he addresses, keeping his tone level, "I need you to trust me."

"He's not lying," Clint inputs, hands lifted in surrender.

"Just take our word for right now, Jarvis," Bruce instructs, "we're not under mind control, we're thinking for ourselves."

Right.

Mind control.

To be frank, that idea had  _completely_ slipped his mind.

The weapons linger for a moment longer before Jarvis slowly retracts them. Tony heaves out a breath of relief, "Thank you. I swear I'll explain later." He promises. He can show Jarvis visual from the feed he got from wearing the suit. ( _Augh, he doesn't want to think about Asgard._   _Is this how Thor feels all the time?)._

"I should hope so, Sir," Jarvis says, his tone is wary. Clipped.

Tony's going to bump up the update to his software on his to-do list. His AI needs a Nobel Peace Prize, or something of the like for this. Tony would have a very hard time taking only someone's word when a dangerous, known super villain arrived at  _his_ doorstep and everyone claimed he wasn't hostile. Jarvis is amazing like that, though. Alright.

Now what?

They spent so much time planning how to get  _out_ of Asgard that they have no agenda now that they're back on Earth. The goal is to keep Thor away and Tony imagines that Sigyn and Loki will be bunking for some time. Loki. They need to get him medical attention for the...everything, really. His body must be a mess from so long on drugs and his  _lips…_

Yeah, a visit to Stark Medical should be prioritized.

Tony releases out a long breath, preparing himself for the mess ahead.  _He can do this._

Tony claps his hands together, breaking the uncomfortable silence that has settled over them, "Alright," he declares, refusing to back down when every eye swings towards him, "we've got a bit of work ahead of us, so there's no time like the present. Thor you have a guest bedroom in your floor, right? Yeah, you do," Tony says before Thor can answer, "if we bunk Sigyn and Loki there, you cool?"

"Yeah," Thor says after a second, then glances towards the two, "are you okay with that?"

Both give a hesitant nod. Tony notes that each of the two appear to be trying their best to make themselves smaller in the large space. He isn't really surprised, though, after everything that's happened, it's almost expected. He still thins his lips despite this and wishes, desperately for  _someone else_ to take charge.

"'Kay," Tony says, "Um, Thor, why don't you take them downstairs? We'll meet up for dinner in a few hours," (this time difference is a pain in the butt, it was the middle of the night when they left, now it's a little past four PM).

"Alright," Thor agrees, then turns back towards the couple, "if you'll follow me…" he trails and begins to walk towards the elevator. The three disappear within it a minute later and Tony allows himself to sag.

Why on  _Earth_ did they think this was a good idea?

They just  _kidnapped_  the prince of Asgard.

Isn't that how you declare wars?

Crap.

Coulson's going to kill them if that's what they unintentionally did. Like, he won't even let them help first, it will be flat out murder. He'll then present their bodies to Odin and—stopping that train of thought before it goes any further.

That is only if he doesn't kill them for dragging Loki back here.

Oh, man,  _everyone_ is going to kill them.

This is great.

_Why the heck did they decide to do this?_

For Thor.

This is for Thor.

Tony clenches his fists at his side and exhales sharply, trying to retain a normal breathing rhythm. He glances towards his team and realizes that their faces show his trepidation. He doesn't want to talk about this. Or really  _think_ on it, either. "I'm going to my workshop," Tony blurts out, "if anyone needs me in the next few hours, bother Jarvis first. No exceptions."

He doesn't wait for anyone to respond, booking it for the stairs instead.

000o000

After skipping dinner and attempting his best to ignore the gnawing hunger growing in his stomach, Tony's working on the schematics for a S.H.I.E.L.D. software update Coulson asked him to look over last week when his phone buzzes loudly to announce texts. Tony looks up from where he's laying on the hard ground, attempting to jolt new ideas from being on his back for how to fix the problem.

His brain feels sluggish.

He really just wants to sleep, but his hands are too anxious to lie still.

His phone buzzes again, but he ignores it.

That sounds like someone else's problem.

He'd ask Jarvis to see what the notification is, but the AI and him are...not exactly on no-speaking terms, but Jarvis is processing everything Tony explained and showed him and has been strangely quiet for the last hour or so. Tony's giving him the space he needs. Admittedly,  _so much_ happened over the last few days  _(days)_ that he's having a hard time accepting it  _himself._ He's not mad at Jarvis for needing a moment to think it over.

Tony blows out a breath and adjusts his position and ignores the following notifications, delving deeper into his project. It's easier to pretend this way that nothing has changed in the Tower since last week. Loki and Sigyn aren't upstairs and they don't know anything about Odin and the—

Isn't it awful that he doesn't know how to process it?

How to help?

How pathetic.

It's been about seven minutes since the first notification before the stool he was sitting on more than an hour ago wheels towards him. Tony jumps and scrambles into a sitting position a loud sound of surprise escaping him as he reaches for the nearest weapon—a screwdriver—and lifts it towards—

"Clint!" Tony hisses out, "Oh my gosh,  _stop._ I told you to stop doing that!"

Clint lifts an eyebrow and scuffles closer, "Yeah, you did."

"How did you even get in here? Jarvis has it on lockdown." Tony argues further.

Clint humphs, "There are other ways in here, you know."

Yes. He does.

Tony rests the screwdriver on the desk and lowers the tablet from the previous position where it was clutched close to his chest. "I hate you," he declares viciously, "what are you doing in here?"

Clint lifts up a small airtight container and rests it on the desk, "Steve sent me with food.  _Bruce_ sent me to tell you to check your phone. He's been texting you. He needs a hand in medical."

Tony eyes the food, then flicks his gaze back to the archer at the mention of Bruce, "Did something happen?"

Clint's lips press together, "Not really. Bruce found a way to cut the thread on Loki's lips after dinner's disaster—no, before you ask, close your mouth, no details. Just know that Sigyn had no idea what tin foil was and when we tried to give Loki water...yeah. Bruce was attempting to repair the damage that the cup caused, but accidentally broke a thread."

Tony's eyebrows lift of their own accord, "I thought it was enchanted."

Ugh. Magic.

"Yeah, me too," Clint agrees, then sighs, "According to Thor apparently the thread can only be cut with a magical weapon  _or_ someone who believes Loki is an enemy. No idea why  _that_ footnote was in there, but I guess an enemy wouldn't want to cut it."

_Disgusting._

_Inhumane._

No, Tony doesn't  _like_  Loki, but he wouldn't leave the thread in.

Tony blows out a breath, "I'm kind of busy,"  _hiding, he's hiding,_  "can't one of you do it?"

"Nope," Clint pops the "p", "the catch with that is that  _Loki_ has to view them as an enemy, too. One or the other has always been off, so we haven't found much success." There's something heavy in his voice that Tony can't quite place. Clint shakes his head as if to clear it and shoves the plastic container towards him, "Eat, then go find Bruce. Tasha will kill me, then you, if that doesn't empty."

Tony rolls his eyes fondly.

Clint rises to his feet and moves towards the ventilation shaft, but stops at Tony's voice: "Are you planning someone's murder?"

Clint whirls on him, "I'm sorry?"

"It's just that," Tony starts, waving his hands in Clint's general direction as he moves towards the food, "you only get this quiet when you're plotting or upset and I'm not good at talking feelings, so if you need help with the murder planning…"

Clint sighs sharply, "That's not it. I'm not plotting any murder. I guess...you know about my dad, and all of this," Clint gestures wildly, "has just brought back some things I'd rather not remember. And it's not just that—I just...I know that Asgard's drawn proof of Loki being mind controlled and I  _remember_ evidence to support it, but I still…" he's quiet for a moment, "it's been  _years_ and I've had every second to blame him for the deaths and what happened to  _me._ It's hard to stop."

Tony nods slowly, "Yeah."

Clint shakes his head and blows out a raspberry, "Sorry, you probably don't want to hear my soap opera."

"You're a terrible singer," Tony points out, "and it's fine. We'll get through this. We always do."

000o000

Fifteen minutes later, Tony walks into Stark Medical. Bruce is standing in the foyer and rises to his feet as he arrives, "Hey," he greets, stuffing his glasses up his nose, "Loki and Sigyn are waiting for us. I sent Thor to bed about half an hour ago with some sleeping pills, Nat's supposed to make sure he actually goes to bed."

Tony nods in acknowledgement.

"Where's the patient?" He questions.

Bruce gives him a pointed look before walking down the hallway. "This way. I would  _really_ love a team of surgeons, but the mess that Loki made when he tore his lips to try and drink the water...That will take days, we need to stop it  _now_ before an infection can spread." Bruce stops in front of a door and gives him a wary look, "I should warn you that it's bleeding a lot."

Tony lifts an eyebrow, "And? Bruce, this is hardly the first time that I've seen blood."

Bruce nods, "I know, but still," he blows out a breath before grabbing the handle, "this shouldn't take too long. Hopefully I can cut all the stitches in under an hour, I need you to remove what I cut so I can bandage and clean it out. No one else has had success."

"What makes you think that that I'm going to be any different from the others?" Tony questions, "I mean one of them was  _Natasha._ If you don't find her scary, you don't find anyone scary."

Bruce shakes his head, "Think about it, Tony. Clint was under the scepters influence for most of the attack, Natasha  _played_ with him, Thor is his brother, and Steve was the person who tried to help him earlier, with the food. And besides that, Steve doesn't think Loki the enemy, not after the mind-control. But  _I'm_ the Hulk, and he barely knows you. You're the last person that I can think of that's close. But you  _can't_ talk, at all."

Tony stares at him, confused. "...Why? Are you afraid I'm going to say something stupid? Because that's usually my job to worry about that, and it's kind of rude for you to admit that at last. How long have we known each other now, five years? yet you never thought to mention this before now? I feel betrayed and offend all at once, but I mean—"

Bruce slams a hand over his mouth, effectively silencing him. When Tony has quieted completely, he pulls his hand back and answers: "No. Because the moment that Loki stops viewing you as an enemy, you stop helping."

"...I can be mean," Tony offers weakly.

Bruce shakes his head, "Nnmm. Keeping quiet will keep him wary—I hate to do this, but we have to be manipulative to get the thread off. Talk to your heart's content when we're finished, but when we're performing the surgery— _not a word."_

Tony gnaws on his inner lip and nods slowly with agreement.

Bruce's eyes tighten slightly and it makes the stress in his frame obvious. Tony realizes just how much  _all_ of them need to take a few winks. Bruce opens the door and takes a step into the white-washed room. Loki is sitting on the hospital bed, his legs hanging over the side as he holds a rag against his face. It's stained red and Tony's stomach lurches slightly. Sigyn is standing beside him, hand resting on his shoulder as she reads a medical pamphlet with her other hand quietly, looking mostly confused.

Loki's green eyes lift towards him, and Sigyn's gray are not far behind.

Bruce hesitates once more before handing Tony a pair of latex gloves, shoving him towards the sink. "Wash up and meet me here in two minutes. Loki, lay down. Sigyn, I need you to hold his head steady—no, not there," Bruce moves her hands down and looks at Loki again, "We can try a sedative. Or a numbing supplement."

Loki shakes his head firmly, fingers clenching next to the sheets.

Tony moves towards the bathroom to prepare for the treatment.

When he's finished washing his hands for the third time (Bruce is picky like that and will send him back if he hasn't) Tony pulls the gloves over his hands with careful maneuvering and exits the room, walking back into the hospital room.

Bruce nods at him and hands him first a face mask, with a subtle lift towards his own lips in a reminder of  _silence,_ then a cleaned and sanitized pair of thin tweezers. Tony takes them wordlessly, as requested, and adjusts the mask over his face then bites at his tongue sharply to keep himself grounded. Bruce tugs his own mask up then moves back towards where Loki is laying flat on his back with Sigyn sitting Indian style at the top of the bed. She's still wearing her dress, Tony realizes abruptly.

That must be uncomfortable.

Loki's in a pair of hospital scrubs at least.

Someone's going to have to go clothing shopping later.

That will probably be Natasha and Bruce, because Natasha is disturbingly good at guessing sizes on any pair of clothing and they're always trying to drag Bruce out of the Tower. Annnd  _focus._

Bruce gently grabs the edge of the rag that Loki was pressing against his face and pulls it back. Tony almost rears back at the sheer  _amount_ of blood that is all over the rag and his face. It's a deep red and still  _wet_ which is never a good sign. Loki's face, though…

The stitches are sharp and still pulling at his face, but the wire (thick thread, maybe?) is tugging at his upper lips horribly. It's pulled at the skin making deep lacerations that are leaking blood and look extremely painful. And there's so much  _blood._ His face is in a word: disgusting.

Tony sees Bruce's eyes narrow slightly before he picks up the scissor-like tool that could be a thin pair of wire cutters, but Tony doubts it. Bruce briefly catches Loki's eye before he leans down over Loki's chest and carefully balances the blade between Loki's lips and the thread where Tony can see a previously cut wire. It's broken, but there's not enough space to remove it.

Bruce snips at the thread and Loki flinches sharply.

But the thread cut.

Tony releases a mental sigh of relief and moves forward to complete his task: removing the wire/thread/whatever it is. He steadies his hands and leans forward to grab the thin edge between the tweezers (making sure to not to grab any skin or lip) and begins to pull. It doesn't shift. Tony thins his lips and quietly pleads with anyone who's listening to  _let him take it out._

Tony tries again, but no one appears to be offering their ear. It remains immovable.

_Curses._

Bruce  _needs_ an assistant with all this blood to get it out as quickly as possible, and apparently  _Tony_ isn't Loki's enemy or Loki isn't  _his._ This is the worst spell on the face of the— _how_ does it even  _know_ what they're feeling towards each other? He and Loki have only exchanged a few words before Loki defenestrated him. They haven't spoken since.

This is stupid.

Why can't he just  _take it out!?_

Alright. Calm down. He can do this. He doesn't feel any animosity on  _his_ end, which means this is probably his fault. Curse the stupid torture and mind control crap. Now they don't view him as the source of the attack. Breathe. He can do this. He's never  _tried_ to hate anyone before, but…

Tony focuses.

The sting of the glass against his back and the hours that Pepper spent after the attack picking it out with tweezers, the footage of Coulson's stab, the sting of realizing  _how many_ people Loki slaughtered, Loki's fingers around his neck—

The thread pulls loose with a jerk and Tony nearly stumbles backwards because of it.

Oh man.

_Yes!_

Tony's mouth opens to proclaim his victory, but he snaps it shut when he remembers Bruce's adamance on the fact that he remain quiet. Okay. Yeah. Tony sets the black thread dripping with red blood onto the tray laid out for that purpose and hears Bruce snap at another wire.

Tony turns his attention back to the Asgardian and realizes that there's more than twenty stitches and he's going to have to manipulate the spell for at least another thirty minutes. Great. Alright. Yes. Not a problem.

He loves thinking dark thoughts.

Large, stupid, pain in the butt.

000o000

A little over twenty minutes later, Tony tugs out the last bit of thread as Bruce slowly finishes taping bandages across Loki's lips. The blood flow has stopped at least, and that's something. When he's finished, Bruce grabs the rod of the IV and tugs it closer to them via the wheels, cleaning the edge of the needle before expertly sliding it into Loki's skin.

"It's getting late," Bruce says and tugs his glasses off to rub at the bridge of his nose, "I'll be back to check on everything tomorrow, but I'm going to leave you here for tonight. Sigyn, do you want me to see if I can find a cot, or…?"

"No," Sigyn assures, running a hand through Loki's hair almost absentmindedly, "I'll remain here."

"If you need anything just let Jarvis know," Tony offers, pulling off his medical mask and tugging the latex gloves off grimacing when he realizes that his hands are going to smell like rubber for a while. "Thor explained about Jarvis, right?"

Sigyn gives a slow nod, "Yes. He is your...ghost servant, yes?"

Tony's eyebrows lift with amusement and he glances at Bruce barely holding back an open laugh. "Uh...yeah, sure, we can go with that." He shakes his head slightly with laughter.

Sigyn's eyes narrow, "Thor explained it to be a computer, but he is a personage and has spoken with us. Alfheim is not free of such beings, have you not trapped one here? I asked Thor and he said that it seemed like the most reasonable answer."

_Oh, my gosh._

_Thor, you little snot._

"No," Tony reassures, "we don't trap spirits here. They come and go of their own free will." He says solemnly and Bruce clears his throat in a way that is obvious that he's trying to hold back laughter.

"Humph." Sigyn disagrees.

"If you don't believe me, ask Jarvis." Tony counters.

Loki shifts slightly, reminding Tony that he's  _there_ and Sigyn sobers immediately, "If you'll excuse me, my husband has had a long day and I wish to let him rest. We'll contact the spirit should we need you."

Jarvis.

A  _spirit._

"Of course, we'll leave you two to it then," Bruce says, his lip twitching upwards before he and Tony exit the room. They barely manage to close the door fast enough to muffle their laughter.

000o000

" _ANTHONY EDWARD STARK!"_

Tony jerks awake, tumbling off of the couch in the communal room with an  _oof_ and barely managing to get into a semi-standing position with the blanket, he doesn't remember falling asleep with, tangling around his legs. He flicks his gaze up, heart beating rapidly in his chest, "Pepper!" He exclaims by recognition. His wife is storming towards him, her expression none to happy. Her hair is swept upwards in a way that reminds Tony both how beautiful she is and how lucky he is.

But she's also angry, and the bravest men cower when Virginia Potts is out for blood.

"Um," Tony stumbles backwards slightly, trying to detangle himself, "you're looking well, how's Morgan?" He questions, gesturing towards her stomach where their unborn daughter is currently resting. Pepper shakes her head sharply.

"Don't." She snaps.

"Don't what?" Tony presses.

"Stop trying to change the subject!" She counters, her voice rising. "Of all the  _stupid,_ impulsive—"

"What the heck did I do now!?" Tony demands, "If your going to be mad at me, at least tell me  _why!"_ She usually does. He doesn't have to dig. He hates this.

Pepper jams a finger against his shoulder several times, "I came home this morning and learned from  _Jarvis_ that you'd come home. You didn't text me."

"I couldn't find my phone," Tony defends.  _No. Between everything that happened, it completely slipped his mind to talk to her._

" _And,_ I learn that not only did you come home  _early_ from your week long holiday, you brought— _him_ back with you. Don't you remember what he did  _last_ time!? Isn't he supposed to be in prison for nearly slaughtering Manhattan?"

Loki.

"Yes." Tony agrees evenly, "But he isn't guilty."

Pepper throws her hands up, "Oh for the love of—"

"Hey, no," Tony argues, "Pep, listen, we did the right thing bringing him back here with us. He's a mess and Thor—How the heck did you even learn he was here?"

"Why does it matter!?" Pepper demands, "Did you plan to keep it from me!?"

" _What_ —no! _"_

Pepper swears under her breath, "No, I can't believe that all of you were  _STUPID_ enough to drag a megalomaniac to New York AGAIN!"

"It was  _that_ or we left Thor there!" Tony grinds out between gritted teeth. "It was better than the alternative, trust me."

"You can't do this right now, Tony," Pepper says, "not when our  _daughter_ is on the line—"

"Loki isn't going to do anything to her! Or you! He's a little busy being fake-dead in Medical!" Tony defends sharply.

"Then why the  _heck_ did I see him in the—" Pepper starts.

"Lady Stark," a voice addresses behind him. Tony nearly jumps in surprise and whirls. Loki is standing there, looking for all rights like he should be there. His hair is slicked back from his face and he's in clothing that clearly belongs to Thor, but he's both  _moving_ and  _talking._ Things that Tony wouldn't have thought him capable of last night.

He flicks his gaze to the window.

Okay, maybe not last night.

"How long was I asleep?" Tony breathes out, startled.

"Thirty-one hours, Sir," Jarvis informs helpfully.

_What!?_

"Lady Stark," Loki addresses again, and clenches his shaking hands close to his sides. It's then that Tony realizes that he's swaying on his feet. He licks his lips, his green eyes narrowed slightly, "I swear to you that I mean you and your family no harm, but if you speak to Sigyn like that again—" Loki stops abruptly and gives a thin smile, "well, trust me, my previous attack will be a footnote in what I'll do to your city."

Tony turns to Pepper, "What the heck did you do to Sigyn?"

"I don't—" Pepper starts, then stops, "who is Sigyn?"

"The woman you had the pleasure of smacking this morning when she attempted to defend me." Loki answers, his voice is careless, but Tony can hear that vague promise of murder in the undertone. Well. Well... _crap._

Tony pales. "You  _what?"_

Pepper runs a hand through her hair in agitation, "I thought that you were here to kill us and she was your accomplice!"

"She's my  _wife,_ you nerk." Loki hisses.

Pepper's face drains of color and she makes a small, "Oh," noise. She shakes her head sharply and hisses out between her teeth. "You know what, fine. Alright. I'm sorry I hit her."

" _I don't want an apology!"_ Loki altercates, "Give  _her_ one!"

"Not right now!" Pepper snaps, "I need to calm down and I want  _YOU_  to get out of the Tower, you power seeking, self absorbed, murderous  _monster!_ "

Loki rears back as if he's been struck and Pepper shifts slightly as if to step forward, but Tony grabs her wrist, "Pep, wait—"

Loki's eyes narrow before he releases a huff of laughter that's nothing but bitter before he grabs the edge of the large hoodie he's wearing and tugs it over his head. The T-shirt he's wearing underneath looks like one of Steve's, but Tony doesn't have much time to process it too before it to is being pulled over Loki's head.

Beneath the clothing, Tony is reminded of how  _small_ Loki is. His bones jut out and muscle mass has been lost from years under a sedative. He looks like a walking bag of bones. It's almost disturbing. "You want proof, Lady Stark?" Loki questions, his voice low, "I spent nearly a year with the Chitauri and their—master. All it gained me was  _this."_ Loki turns and reveals his back to them.

Pepper's hand comes up to cover her mouth and Tony feels his eyes widen.

The scarring is there, just as Eir said it would be.

Jagged, crisscrossing everywhere, an ugly  _mess_ that must have been painful to receive. An ugly burn is present on Loki's shoulder, but it's significance he can't place. His fingers release Pepper's wrist with shock.

He  _knew_ it was there.

He knew, but still it—

Loki tugs on his shirt again and turns to look back at them. "I have no intentions to kill anyone." He reassures, his voice deceptively level. "You would do well to apologize to Sigyn, however."

Pepper doesn't respond.

Instead, she  _bolts._

It isn't quite running or jogging, she just escapes the small space the couches create and exits the the elevator. Tony gnaws at his inner lip and tastes blood sharply. He looks at Loki, then realizes with a jolt that he'd completely missed the red scarring around the Asgardian's lips. Augh. It will fade to white after a time, but at the moment it's clear what happened.

"You should sit down," Tony says, breaking the silence, "you're barely keeping yourself upright. I'll talk to Pepper," he promises. "But for the record, touch her and you lose the hand. If I'm feeling nice, I might let you pick which. Now  _sit."_

Loki sits numbly. "Jarvis, tell Thor to get down here, or Sigyn. Both wouldn't be bad either." Tony addresses.

"Of course, Sir," Jarvis agrees.

"I don't need a  _babysitter—"_ Loki starts, his voice acidic.

"No. You don't," Tony agrees before Loki can finish his rant of the soul crushing variety, "but you're shaking and I know it's not from cold."

000o000

Ultimately, after mostly tears on Pepper's side, Tony manages to convince Pepper to both lie down and that Loki and Sigyn probably don't have their sights set on world domination or murder. She agrees to apologize to Sigyn for her violence when she gets up again and Tony kisses her on the forehead then lays a blanket across her.

He manages to track down his phone and tucks himself into a quiet corner of his workshop, trying to  _breathe._ He doesn't find much success. When the growing anxiety begins to build to hysteria, Tony scrolls through his contacts until he finds Rhodey and fires off a text:

_Made it back from Asgard. Are you busy? -TS_

He only has to wait about a minute before Rhodey answers:

_I have a few minutes. Aren't you early? -JR_

_Yep. By a few days. We had to bail. -TS_

_...Why? -JR_

_=/ Asgard is a jerk. Thor's dad is a jerk and his mom is...distant. A lot happened. I can't believe it was only a few days. It felt like years. -TS_

_That bad? -JR_

_Worse. -TS_

_What happened? -JR_

_Well, Thor's dad turned out to be a megalomaniac, abusive, and a all around unpleasant fellow. We sort of kidnapped Thor. And...Ergh. So you know how Coulson's always shoving down our throats that we're to impulsive?-TS_

_Wait. Isn't Thor a prince? His dad is king right? -JR_

_Yep. It's a miracle that Asgard hasn't collapsed yet. -TS_

_Hmmph. How bad was it? -JR_

_Bad. He drew blood from Thor. -TS_

There's a pause, then:  _Please tell me you murdered him. -JR_

_We thought about it, but ultimately between us doing a stupid we didn't really have time. -TS_

_Explain. -JR_

_Well Loki was there to. and he was just as much of a mess and we decided to take him back with us because Thor refusal to leave with-out him, but as it turns outtt Loki's married and so we kidnapped his wife too, and noww we've successfully declred war on two separate planetsss anD Pepper'Sss really mad about uss dragin Lokki back, but it was that or leaving him there to DIE and and and Thor to deal with Odin's crap for the next hundred years or so.. Wer'e we wrong to do what We didded?-TS_

Rhodey doesn't answer for almost a minute and Tony's stomach curls with anxiety because  _of course they were stupid, no one does that, and—_

_No. I think you did the right thing given the circumstances, but you're still idiots. Where are you right now? -JR_

_Towerr.-TS_

_I'm coming over. Your hands are shaking. How bad is your attack? -JR_

_Bad.. I cannnn't breathe. -TS_

_Give me a few minutes, try to breathe deeper. -JR_

Rhodey arrives twenty-two minutes later with take-out from a nearby Chick-fil-A, and doesn't leave Tony alone until the meal is eaten and he can breathe like a normal human being again. And if, in gratitude, Tony lets Rhodey have most of the fries, no one has to know that.

000o000

The next day Pepper apologizes to Sigyn for the misunderstanding, bakes her muffins, and then promises to do her best to make up for what happened. Loki looks less like he's going to murder her after that, for which Tony is grateful.

Sigyn accepts the apology and then proceeds to continue to pester Loki into eating something with Thor. They're successful in the long run, and Loki spends a majority of the next hour throwing up as Bruce explains to Sigyn and Loki with some irritability that when someone hasn't eaten in a long time you  _don't start with solid foods._

Next time they try a smoothie.

And Loki still throws up.

All in all, the first week with Loki and Sigyn at the Tower pass without anyone being killed and that's about all Tony can proclaim is good that happened. It's never usually a good thing when the only win you can pull out of something is that nobody died.

The rest of the team are a cross between avoiding Loki and Sigyn like the plague and then being weirdly helpful and thoughtful. Natasha does take Bruce shopping and they buy more wardrobe that Tony can honestly see Sigyn or Loki using, but Sigyn is thrilled and goes running up to Loki waving a pair of heels at his face and exclaiming something about how comfortable footwear is here.

Loki had listened to her with a fond smile and Thor had snorted with laughter beside him. When questioned, Thor had answered: "Sigyn will splurge on three things: Loki, her children, and shoes. Otherwise she never spends money. Loki bought her a pair of shoes as a joke for their engagement, but I'm pretty sure that's wear their friendship actually started."

Tony had stared at the four separate pairs of shoes that Natasha bought with better understanding after that.

Natasha finally returns his hoodie and Tony happily wears it, then realizes the reason that she waited to return it was because she accidentally spilled fingernail polish on the side and now it's covered in sparkles. Pepper had laughed and said that he looks like a glitter fairy and Tony had snorted in agreement.

He still wore it anyway.

They're in the middle of week two when Loki manages to keep down solid food for more than two hours and to celebrate the success, Tony throws a movie party. He leaves the decision of what to watch up to Loki who spends a good ten minutes listening to Thor, who has seen most of the more popular movies, give summaries that are both awful and hilarious.

His one for Harry Potter is something along the lines of, " _Brother, it's about a small child who has lightning on their forehead and pretends to be a sedirmaster. He's joined by a redhead who's without courage and a brunette who has yet to find her hairbrush."_

They end up watching  _Justice League,_ though Tony has no idea why because all of them hate DC and the plot is really...meh. Maybe after facing a real alien invasion multiple times, the CGI just doesn't cut it anymore. Tony learns two things from the experience though:

One: Sigyn is the most sarcastic snot he has yet to meet. She sat through most of the movie making nasty comments about casting and the character arcs that flawed any semi-appreciation that Tony had for the film. On a first impression, Tony had really thought that Sigyn was more like Loki's...opposite. Her hair is a pale blonde whereas his is dark black, Loki's eyes are a vibrant shade of green that spark and fizzle with his emotions, but Sigyn's are a cool gray that don't reveal what she's thinking. Loki is tall and Sigyn is barely past five foot four. Loki is mean and quick to anger, but Sigyn is gentle and nice. But the thing Tony realizes is that Sigyn had not felt comfortable enough around them before this to  _reveal_ this side of her.

Two: Loki can't eat popcorn because it's covered in butter and he's deathly allergic to lactose. Apparently Bruce knew it before the rest of them, because when Loki picked up a piece he smacked his hand away and blurted out that it's covered in butter and Loki had dropped it like it might burn him.

Given this, though, at the end of the movie Clint had pelted Loki with remaining popcorn declaring that he should "fear the mighty butter". Natasha had smacked his arm fondly, but Loki shoved Clint off the edge of the couch as Sigyn and Thor laughed and that was pretty much that.

All in all, a strange sort of success.

The tension in the Tower eases after that considerably.

The following week, Tony presents Loki with braces for his arms to steady the shaking and Loki looks prepared to swear servitude to him for the rest of Tony's life. They work, mercifully, and when Loki conjures up a small flame, Tony oddly doesn't feel concerned.

Just happy for him.

000o000

Weeks fly by and suddenly it's been a little over two months since they arrived and he gets  _the call._ He's going over some updates for the StarkArt app that he created a few years ago with Steve when his phone begins to buzz rapidly, then ring.

"Shouldn't you get that?" Steve questions.

"Probably." Tony agrees, then enlarges something on the StarkPad, "Do you think that this—"

The phone beeps for a message, then: " _Tony!_ It's happening and I need you to meet me at the hospital. My water broke and I really don't know what to do about anything and—and—"

Tony answers the phone, a frantic panic swirling through him. "Pep? What's—"

"The  _BABY_  Tony! THE BABY IS COMING AND I—"

"Whoa! Whoa! Calm down. Breathe. Is someone taking you from SI?" Tony questions, glancing towards Steve desperately who's staring at him with wide eyes.

"Happy is." Pepper answers breathlessly. "Please hurry."

"We'll meet you there." Tony promises, then Pepper hangs up and he turns to Steve, grabbing the super-solider shoulders. "MY CHILD IS COMING!  _WHAT THE HECK DO I DO!?"_

Steve shoves him off, and Tony begins to pace rapidly, a thrum of unquenchable panic beginning to pulse through him. He's not ready for this. He's not ready to be a father. Oh, gosh,  _he's not ready to be a father._ "Breathe." Steve instructs, "We need to get to the hospital. I'll call the team to let them know what's going on. Thor took Loki and Sigyn to see Jane, should I let them know?"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

"Calm down!"

" _I CAN'T!"_

"I'll call them," Steve decides calmly, then flicks a glance back towards him, "and for the love of—do you want a paper bag?"

000o000

Sixteen hours, and a drugged to high heaven Pepper later, Morgan Virgina Natasha Stark is born into the world. An hour after that, Tony's being handed his daughter by his wife under the supervision of the nurse, Mrs. Parker. The nurse keeps lingering and Tony's not sure if she's waiting for them to tell her something or whatever else, but he finds her knowing smile hidden behind large glasses annoying. Tony resists the urge to shove her out as he's handed his daughter because okay—wow. She's  _small._

"Pep," Tony breathes, sitting on the edge of the bed where Pepper is slumped tiredly. "Oh, she's perfect. Wonderful. Amazing. Hello, Morgan," Tony greets and lets Morgan clasp his finger with a small hand. So  _very,_ very small. He frowns a little, then looks up at his wife. "Look how small she is."

Pepper leans forward and gently holds her finger out for the baby to grab hold of. "Hey, Morgan," she greets with a tired smile.

"Oh my gosh, she's so small." Tony realizes, tucking her closer with a sudden striking fear for her life. "How—"

"Babies are this small, Tony," Pepper assures, resting a hand on his forearm, "I've seen newborns before."

"But...is  _ours_ supposed to be this small?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Now get Morgan's aunt and uncles in here before I fall asleep and she wakes up again." Pepper commands.

Tony hesitates. "But do we really—"

"Morgan will be fine." Pepper assures with a soft smile, "You don't have long before I pass out."

Tony glances towards the IV and frowns a little, "How many drugs did you take?"

"Enough that I can't feel past my hips." Pepper admits a little sheepishly. " _Go."_

Tony hands their daughter back to Pepper, then collects the other Avengers from the waiting room, noting with a slight snicker that everyone else present is gawking at them openingly. They arrive back in the hospital room and Steve immediately awws over Morgan, looking as though he's never seen anything more adorable in his life.

And yeah, Tony and Pepper (mostly Pepper) made that adorable thing so it's completely acceptable for Steve to be proclaiming Morgan such. Steve's the first to hold her with a wide smile that makes him look younger than he really is and Tony comes to stand beside Pepper, gripping her hand as she smiles fondly in the team's direction.

Clint takes Morgan next and his expression softens slightly and he looks at Natasha, "Hey Tasha, how do you feel about—?"

Natasha slams a hand over his mouth, "Stop there. No."

Clint shakes her hand off, "You said you wanted kids!"

"I didn't say I wanted to  _make_ the kid." Natasha argues, "We're adopting. And we're not adopting for a while."

Clint pouts, and Natasha takes Morgan from him. Unlike Steve and Clint who had more than enough words to tell the small child, Natasha takes one look at the baby and lifts an eyebrow then says flatly: "Fat."

"Hey—!" Tony starts in outrage.

"Not now," Pepper pleads gripping his hand, "I'm too tired now. We'll make her babysit later as punishment. But not now."

Tony moodily complies.

Bruce takes Morgan from Natasha awkwardly and his expression flares as if the thought of holding such innocent life terrifies him. He's barely made it thirty seconds before he's shoving the baby into Tony's arms and offering a grimaced smile. "She's lovely."

"Great," Tony agrees then waves a hand towards them, "now shoo. Pep needs to sleep and Thor will be here with Lokygn soon."

000o000

Almost exactly four hours after the other Avengers have left and Pepper's mother and Rhodey have stopped by, Thor, Loki, and Sigyn step into the room. Loki's grumbling about rain or something along those lines, but Thor's expression immediately lights up. He strides across the room towards where Pepper is seated upright with Morgan in her arms and smiles at the baby.

"She's beautiful," Thor assures, "a babe worthy of Idunn's apples."

Tony and Pepper share a look, "Um. Thanks." Tony says.

"May I hold her?" Thor questions. Pepper nods and gently allows Thor to scoop the babe from her arms. Words of how to properly support her head and back are swallowed when he realizes that Thor is holding Morgan with ease. He murmurs a few words in his native tongue, then turns to look back at Sigyn and Loki his expression mirthful, but it freezes.

Tony follows his gaze.

Sigyn's eyes are wide, her face drawn and pale as she grips Loki's fingers in a death grip. Loki's expression is wiped clean save the slight crease in his brow, but his jaw is tense. Tony recalls the details of what he gained off the librarian two months before (that feel like a lifetime). Loki and Sigyn's children all died in childbirth except the twin snakes on Alfheim.

To see Morgan now…

Tony barely represses a physical flinch.

Oh man...he didn't mean to...oh gosh, why couldn't he have just  _thought_ about that and...this is...why did he have to—

Pepper, ever the steady part of his brain, rests a hand on his arm and waves the couple forward. She's smiling gently, "Would you like to see her?"

As one clearly pained unit, Sigyn and Loki walk towards Thor where Morgan is still sleeping soundly. Thor gently lifts her towards the couple. Sigyn takes several more steps forward and Loki follows, both of them look like they're in a daze.

Sigyn stops beside her brother-in-law, eyes watering. "She's beautiful." She murmurs, her voice thick. "Loki, look at her nose."

Loki looks frozen and he keeps blinking rapidly, his eyes are moist. "It's lovely." He agrees.

"And her feet." Sigyn says, a tear slipping down her face.

Loki presses the back of his hand against his mouth to quell tears, but it doesn't stop it. Something tightens painfully in Tony's chest.

"And—" Sigyn's voice breaks and she squeezes Loki's fingers tighter.

Pepper's expression smooths with sympathy. "Would you like to hold her?"

Sigyn and Loki share a quick look and Sigyn nods, "Yes. Please."

Thor, with a final glance towards Tony to make sure it's okay, hands his surrogate niece to Sigyn. The elf holds her close to her chest and stares down at her with a desperate longing in her eyes. "Hello little one," Sigyn's voice cracks, "you're so beautiful, darling. So worthy of Idunn's apples, so innocent, so perfect, so—" Loki's arm wraps around his wife's shoulder and pulls her close as she begins to sob. Loki smooths a few stray pieces of faint, wispy hair from off of Morgan's forehead.

His expression is open agony.

Sigyn's face litters with more tears and she looks up at her husband, then through her sobs gasps out: "We could have had this,  _we could have had this."_

000o000

Tony, Pepper and their small bundle return back to Avengers Tower the next day. Exhausted and having no desire to do  _anything_ but sleep, Tony hands Morgan off to Steve. He and Pepper retreat to bed and sleep for nearly ten hours before re-joining the living to find Sigyn asleep on the couch with Morgan curled on her chest.

Pepper smiles fondly and lifts up her phone to take a picture. Tony tries to find joy or even a little bit of happiness at the sight, but all he can feel is cold horror as he realizes  _just how many_ ways that could have gone wrong. Morgan could shift and fall off, or Sigyn could roll or—

Parenting is a nightmare.

He was not ready for this.

"It's that just precious?" Pepper questions softly, turning to look at him with bright eyes.

No.

It's not.

Morgan is—

_Breathe._

000o000

One week and a great deal of close calls later (turns out that Morgan wants to do nothing but be held, eat, and whine slightly and the parenting class that Tony and Pepper are now attending assures them that it's fine), Tony is on the dubbed "baby-duty" in the communal room. AKA, he holds Morgan while working on answering emails for SI (Pepper's on maternity leave, so everyone apparently thought that Tony is more available than her). Across the room, Loki is reading a book with his head in Sigyn's lap as she works on some sort of weaving-braid technique with embroidery thread that Natasha showed her a few days ago.

They look calm, almost content and compared to the anxiety that both presented on Asgard, Tony's rather proud of it.

Clint and Thor are in the middle of an intense match of a video game that Tony doesn't recognize, but it's apparently a team-up and Clint has terrible aim with the controller. Tony probably shouldn't find that as hilarious as he does, but...eh.

After Clint is killed for the umpteenth time he throws his hands up in frustration, "Oh my gosh, I can't believe this! How are you better than me!?" He demands, turning to Thor.

Thor smirks knowingly and offers a slight laugh as he relaxes against the back of the couch, "Perhaps you simply don't have the skills needed."

"It's a  _video game!"_

"They require skill." Thor defends, "Natasha said that—"

"Was that after you beat her?" Clint interrupts in a demanding tone, "Because she  _never_ defends computer games otherwise."

Thor opens his mouth to respond, but is yet again interrupted. It isn't by Clint this time, it's Jarvis: "Sir, Director Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D. is en route to the communal room." Tony's blood freezes and he flicks an anxious glance towards where Loki and Sigyn are sitting. Both have perked up slightly and Loki squints with confusion.

"Who?" Loki questions.

Tony swears, "You stabbed him five years ago but missed anything fatal. Now shut up and get out of here."

"I'm sorry?" Sigyn questions as Tony frantically rises to his feet, pulling the book out of the trickster's hands and throwing it towards the coffee table. Clint and Thor have risen to their feet as well and Tony can see the anxiety drawn into their stances.

"Phil doesn't know that you're here," Tony explains rapidly, "if he sees you, I really doubt that he'll be as understanding as everyone else. Now  _go_ ," Tony grabs Sigyn's wrist and pulls her to her feet. Loki stumbles onto his a moment later and though both still look confused and slightly miffed, the two begin to exit the room.

The elevator opens before they exit completely.

Tony freezes, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

Crap,  _crap, crap, crap, crap—_

Coulson takes a step into the communal room, straining down his ruffled suit coat. From the corner of his eye, Tony sees Loki grab his wife's wrist the two vanish in a blur of bluish light and a faint cinnamon smell.

Natural.

They need to act natural.

Like they're not hiding anything.

Um.

Um, um, um—

Tony grabs an unopened water bottle on the coffee table with one hand, twists it the cap to break the seal, and begins to down the water. Clint shoves Thor abruptly and Thor tumbles slightly, then snatches Mjolnir from wherever it was, hand poised to smash Clint with it.

"Whoa, Rapunzel!" Clint starts, lifting his hands in self defense.

"How dare you insult a son of Odin!?" Thor demands sharply.

"I didn't mean it!?" Clint questions anxiously.

And— _oh._ Arguments are normal. Tony attempting to become a mermaid is  _not_ as normal. He pulls the water bottle away from his lips and coughs sharply, coming to the painful realization that he probably should have breathed before now.

Coulson comes to a stop in front of them, eyebrow raising. "Am I interrupting something?"

Tony clears his throat sharply,  _that was a lot of water._  "Ah—no," he reassures, gently adjusting Morgan when she shifts in discomfort. "What do you need, Agent?"

Coulson's eye twitches with slight annoyance, "We have intel from a trusted source and I need to call in the Avengers for a mission. How fast can you be ready?"

An assemble? Now? Great. Pepper's meeting with her post-pregnancy therapist and she won't be back for another hour. Who can he get to babysit?

"Ten minutes?" Tony guesses, "We'll meet you outside."

Coulson nods and makes a move to leave, though his gaze lingers on Morgan. He makes a little humming noise before walking past them. When he's exited the room, he hears Clint smack his palm against his forehead.

" _Water?"_ He demands rhetorically. Tony feels heat rise to his cheeks, "No one drinks water like that when they're being normal."

"It was the only thing I could think of!" Tony defends, "No judgement from you, Bird-Brain. J., call for an assemble and tell Loki to get his butt down here."

"In that phrasing, Sir?" Jarvis questions with snark as the lights begin to ring for an assembling.

Tony blows out a breath of annoyance and doesn't answer. A little less than seven minutes later, the rest of the team is grouped together and Loki arrives. "What is it that you need?" He demands. The words have barely left his mouth before Tony shoves his daughter at the trickster.

"Babysitter. Anything happen to her and that's on your head." He smiles thinly before tapping his arc reactor and feeling the nanotech spread across his body. He doesn't look back as he and the other Avengers gather on the landing pad.

Coulson gives them a run down of their mission and they leave almost immediately.

000o000

Four hours later, Clint lands the burned Quinjet on Avengers Tower and Tony flexes his damaged hand in and out. Natasha groans loudly and wipes blood off of the cut on her forehead. "Never again." She promises lowly.

The villain of the day: Dr. Doom.

Rather than destroy Manhattan with one of his usual flare and predictable strategies, he was attempting to infiltrate a public building to lay bombs and they caught him in the act. Not before he thrust out a small army of Doombots and vanished with laughter. Two hours of tracking and a well aimed taser arrow later, Doom is now safely in the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D..

"They had pew-pew guns," Clint grumbles in annoyance, rising to his feet, "I  _hate_ pew-pew guns."

"Mmph," Tony argues tiredly, "don't hate it till you try it. Food?"

All give noises of agreement.

They enter the penthouse. "J.," Tony addresses, "order from some restaurant near here with however much you think is good. Tell Lokygn to join us to, and Peps if she's home."

"Of course, Sir." Jarvis answers. "Miss Potts is still out."

Tony disassembles the armor and thrusts himself on the nearest couch, groaning with relief when he realizes he doesn't  _have_  to move for the next several hours. The rest of his team is quick to follow, Natasha curling up in a slumped ball next to him, her back pressed against his leg.

Somewhere close to fifteen minutes later, Loki and Sigyn enter the room with bags of takeout distributed between the two of them. Morgan is in Sigyn's arms and Tony gives a tired wave in her direction as he sees the newborn. Sigyn smiles softly and hands the child to Bruce, who looks like he'd rather be doing pretty much anything else, but nonetheless steadies her.

Loki dumps the takeout on the coffee table, "You would be amazed at the idiocy of New Yorkers," he announces to them, "you live in an enormous tower with your  _name_ plastered to the side and the delivery child still got lost."

Natasha hums, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Do you have any extra fries?" Coulson questions. Tony stiffens and then lurches to his feet with the others, hand coming to his arc reactor as Natasha's flies to the gun strapped at her waist. Jarvis. Did Jarvis know that he was here, or did—

Steve stares for a second, then appears to gather himself together, "What are you doing here?"

Coulson smiles tightly and gives a slight dip of his head in greeting. "I think that we need to have a discussion about your resident super villain."

Loki's fists clench at his sides tightly and Tony sees Sigyn's hand shift to where he  _knows_ she carries the hilt of her sword. It's weirdly foldable and can close to just the hilt. It's fairly heavy, but Tony has rarely seen her without it yet never seen her use it.

"Attempts to detain him with end poorly." Sigyn promises lowly.

Loki rests a hand on her shoulder as if telling her to stand down and tilts his head in Coulson's direction. "What is it that you want to discuss, Director?"

Coulson takes a step forward, apparently oblivious to how tense all of them are and digs through the bag until he finds the fries and steals one. He makes a face, "Salty." He turns back to Loki, "I'm beginning to suspect you've been here since they came back from Asgard."

"Yes."

"Alright," Coulson agrees evenly, "Jarvis explained most of what happened to me while you guys were coming back. You've had months to attempt to enslave and kill us, but you haven't. Why?"

Loki hesitates, apparently thinking over it before he answers, voice careful: "It was never my intention in the first place. I can't rule over the dead."

"You didn't seem too concerned about that last time." Coulson points out.

"My brother is not here because he's claiming a crown," Thor defends sharply, "he's  _here_ because he's wanted dead everywhere else. If I take him back to Asgard he'll be assassinated. He has no where else to go where he isn't wanted dead."

That's a warming thought.

Coulson nods slightly then presses his lips together tightly. "Alright. I'll trust your judgement on this one. But Loki, if you make  _one_ move out of line, you'll be in a cell faster than you can say "oops"." Coulson promises.

Loki huffs, "Noted."

"I only have one last question then I'll leave," Coulson promises.

"Ask away, then." Sigyn invites. Her eyes are filled with distrust and a wariness that Tony can't quite blame her for, even if he doesn't share it. If Coulson was going to arrest Loki, he would have showed up with a STRIKE team, not by himself. He only wanted to talk.

"Jarvis mentioned that you have children, on your home world," Coulson starts slowly, addressing Sigyn, "I was wondering if you'd explain that."

Loki and Sigyn share a look between the two of them.

It looks hollow.

Sad.

_Wet._

Loki sighs and gestures towards the couch, "You may want to sit for this, it's not a short tale."

Coulson nods and carefully positions himself on the edge of the couch. Tony warily sits down beside him and Natasha sinks down next to him. On the other couch, Clint, Bruce, Steve, and Thor sit down. Sigyn and Loki perch on the coffee table.

Loki's quiet for a moment, working his lip between his teeth for a second as if trying to figure out how best to explain. "How much do you know about my father?" Loki questions.

Coulson's expression darkens slightly and he flicks a glance towards Thor that seems almost...possessively protective. "Enough. He deserves a life sentence in prison. Or a few other methods of disposing someone I can think of."

Loki lets out a dry laugh, "Creativity is always welcomed. I can't tell you how many times I've dreamt his death since my imprisonment. It's true, our twin sons Jörmungandr and Narfi are on Alfheim, but they don't require our immediate care."

Coulson's expression flickers, "How so?"

Sigyn tightens, "I'm cursed, Director, there's something...wrong with me, my womb only conceives animals. Jörmungandr and Narfi are snakes. Serpents now, really, but still very small. With your ageing scale, they're barely five. Our eldest son would have been a little over nine."

""Would"?" Coulson presses.

Tony mentally winces.

Don't push this.

_Please don't push this._

Loki shakes his head and releases a sharp breath, "Sigyn and I were married at your seventeen. After the first two decades of our marriage—four, possibly five months here—Odin...went through a lapse. The All-Force that he has to wield has been like a poison to him. The burden of that magic is meant to be shared between a man and a woman, the king and queen. It's the only way a king could retain his sanity. My father never agreed to do that. To recompense for it, he has to enter a trance-like state to maintain himself. But he waited. I took the brunt of his frustration and Sigyn grew concerned."

Sigyn shakes her head, her expression disgusted, "He  _beat_ you bloody, Loki." She counters, "I was ready to take his head and I don't think that anyone would have stopped me."

Tony wouldn't have.

He would have cheered her on.

"It was me or Thor and I'm rather glad with the decision I did make," Loki argues. The two stare each other down for a few seconds before Loki yields first and turns back to Coulson. "In her worry, she started to scheme ways to get me and Thor off of Asgard. We had nowhere to go, however, and when she presented this idea to Thor, he laughed at her. He insisted nothing was wrong, even though all of us  _did_ know it. We'd grown up with only Odin as our father, how were we to know any different? Eventually, Sigyn was doing some reading and came across the text that declared since she was the Crown Princess of her realm, if she were to conceive a living heir before her sisters, she and I would be obligated by law to return to her home planet."

Coulson nods, "So you had a child?"

"We attempted to," Sigyn corrects, her face falling slightly, "when I was gave birth, our son was a horse. People assumed that it was a sign from those greater than us above that we weren't meant to be parents. Other's thought me cursed. Odin met us in the Healing Halls as Eir attempted to get our son to breathe, but it was hopeless. He took the body and we were never told where he was buried, to help grief, I was told. Everyone told us to forget him. But he was still our  _son_ and I wanted to go to his funeral, but he never  _had_ one and I wanted to know where they put his body, but we couldn't find it."

Loki clenches his eyes shut, "Heimdall was forbidden to tell us where he was. And those that followed after."

Sigyn inhales raggedly, "Our daughter, Angrboða was a deformed flerken—an omen of death. Later, our son Fenrir, a wolf, followed his sister and brother to Valhalla. They never made it more than a few hours. When I finally grew pregnant with our twins…"

"Odin cornered us and said that I was humiliating the family with all the mess of Sigyn's failed pregnancies. He told me that it had given him only one choice, I had to say goodbye to Sigyn and she would give birth to our sons in Alfheim and not return." Loki explains.

"She wasn't banished?" Steve blurts out, then heat rises to his cheeks when they look at him.

"No." Thor says softly, "She wasn't."

Sigyn sighs quietly, "I left at the end of my term and re-joined my family. The twins lived. They reside with my sister and her daughter. If it was not so dangerous for my husband, I would take him to see them. They likely enjoyed the rats," she says the last part wistfully and Tony barely withholds a gag. He does note, however, that Thor's expression has twisted into something glaringly uncomfortable. His fingers keep clenching in and out.

Coulson makes a noise of acknowledgement and sympathy. "I'm sorry."

Loki shakes his head, "Thank you for your sympathy, Director I—"

"How many legs was the first born with?" Thor blurts out abruptly. Sigyn and Loki turn to him, mirrored expressions of confusion flickering across their face. Tony stares at him. What does this have to do with anything?

"...Eight." Loki answers after a second, "Why does this matter? You never saw—"

"Sleipnir," Thor rushes out as if afraid he won't be able to say it unless he does so. "Sleipnir also has eight legs, Loki, do you think maybe…?" The word has  _no meaning_ to him whatsoever, but Loki's expression freezes as if he's been struck. His breath escapes in a single release.

Sigyn's hands come to cover her mouth and she looks at her husband, " _No._ "

" _He wouldn't dare—"_ Loki starts under his breath.

"He said he enchanted him in remembrance of our son, Loki, you don't think—" Sigyn starts.

"We never saw the body, Elskling, he—" Loki's voice is growing more heated the longer he speaks.

"We spent  _years_ mourning our  _baby_ and he—"

"I  _begged_ and  _begged_ him to at least let us know the location of the buried body, but—"

"Oh, Norns," Sigyn breathes out, "Loki, there was always talk of the wolf that howled with rage in Speckle Point."

"Fenrir." Thor murmurs, his expression beginning to show the same look of horror as his sibling and sister-in-law's.

"The flerkin that Sif found." Sigyn whispers, "I had never even  _thought_ to—"

Loki's face loses all color and he turns and grabs Sigyn's shoulder, "I  _swore_ to you that that sorcery that tainted your womb was familiar. It was familiar because it was  _Odin's._ He cursed you and tossed out our children like mere  _dogs_ when they lived to die—" Loki snaps to his feet suddenly, his expression darkened with thick rage.

Sigyn's eyes widen. A hand comes to her stomach and she breathes out sharply.

Tony's mouth is parted with his disbelief and disgust and he snaps it shut. Odin. Loki's  _father_ cursed Sigyn with this? He threw our their  _children_ into the wilderness of Asgard and bound Heimdall to never speak of it, then refused to tell them what happened?

What sick minded, monstrous—

Is that even a question?

Dear,  _dear_ King Odin. The all so innocent benevolent king of Asgard.

Loki swears under his breath. Then begins to pace, "I'm going to kill him," he promises softly, " _slowly. Gruesomely._ Draw the life from his body so painfully that he screams for mercy and when he  _does,_ I'll split his skull."

Sigyn rises to her feet, expression equally dark. Despite this, Tony's almost expecting her to talk him down. She's usually the more level headed between the two, but instead, she only moves her hand towards her sword and questions: "When do we start?"

And.

Okay.

Yep.

Tony should probably be more opposed to this, but he finds that he  _can't_ be. Not after what Odin did to  _Thor._  Not after what he did to Loki. Not after what he did to Sigyn.

Thor's lips press together tightly before he releases a sharp breath and he rises to his feet, "I will see him brought to justice." Thor agrees, "If death can be avoided, perhaps we should—"

"Avoided?" Loki repeats, his voice laced with a sick laughter, "I'd see him  _rot_ in Helheim. Thor, he cursed my  _wife and my children_  so we would never learn that  _I was adopted."_

Thor's jaw tightens.

Loki shakes his head, his lips still spread in that sickly smile. "You think that this was merely because he didn't want grandchildren? What do you think Asgard would have thought if my firstborn son was  _blue?_ Lineage would have been traced, the only way to prevent that was to simply not have a Aesir born at all.  _You can't tell with animals."_

"I'm not  _defending_ him." Thor asseverates, "I wouldn't—I know that he's wronged you, but murder is not always the answer—"

"IT'S NOT JUST  _ME_ , THOR!" Loki rages, hand snapping out with frustration, "I don't bloody care if he's saved an orphanage as a child. He  _abused_ you, I cleaned up your bruises and blood far to much to believe there is anything  _worth_ saving in that wretched, egoistical—"

"I want  _justice,_ Loki," Thor interrupts, "and it is not your decision how he gains that. It's the curia regis's."

Loki swears again.

His fists are laced with a glowing green light.

But he sucks in a calming breath. Then another. "Fine." He grits between his teeth, "We will gain the proof we need first,  _then_ we will bring Odin to justice."

"We're coming, too," Steve avers without argument. Loki, Thor, and Sigyn all look towards him. "Look, we may not have dealt with all of this for as long as you have, but you're family. We aren't going to let Odin get away with this and we'll see it to the end."

Loki nods once. Thor looks relieved. Sigyn's face is beyond Tony's sight.

Coulson sighs quietly and slowly rests his head in his hand. Natasha lifts an eyebrow and kicks the edge of the director's shoe. "Do we have permission to leave?"

"No murder." Coulson argues.

Natasha lifts her eyebrows up, her body shifting into a "fight me" stance. "None?"

" _No._ I don't need the paperwork." Coulson says sharply, "It would be a lot of paperwork."

"Well snowflake," Clint says and pats his knee, "sometimes life's hard and you've gotta accept that."

"No murder." Coulson repeats.

Loki snorts. "You're not in a position to be demanding anything of us."

Coulson lifts his head up, expression begging to differ, "I am, in fact, and I insist the no murder policy. Yes, you have permission to go with this, only because I don't think I can stop you. I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear any of this and go to bed." Coulson rises to his feet and Tony gives him a light wave in response.

Clint smirks and, as the door to the elevators close, turns back to them, "He only argued halfheartedly, that means he agrees with us but his sense of duty argues that he argue. We're golden Pony Boy."

000o000

Two days later, Tony is once again stumbling into the Observatory. His stomach doesn't heave quite as badly this time, and Tony's a little proud of that fact. Heimdall is awaiting them and gives a dip of his head in greeting.

"Avengers, Prince Thor, Prince Loki, Princess Sigyn."

"Heimdall," Sigyn's voice is earnest, "please. I know you've been watching us. Is what we've concluded correct?"

Heimdall's expressionless face flickers, and the grip on his sword tightens, "Yes. Odin has bound me under sedir to never let you know. I cannot reveal the location of your children, Your Highness, not now, I'm sorry."

The cold coil in his stomach tightens to a knot.

Sigyn's shoulders slump, but she nonetheless nods, her chin lifting slightly. "Then we will drag it from Odin himself."

Heimdall nods, "I wish you luck."

000o000

When they step foot into the capital city, the people part for their group as if they'd been expecting them. A few have heated expressions, but most simply give low nods of their heads in respect, some even assuring Thor that they have so-and-so's shield. Many eyes linger on the brutal scarring across the lower half of Loki's face, though.

When they reach the gates to the palace, the Warriors Three and Sif are awaiting them. Sif gives a dip of her head in their direction, "My princes," she greets with a slight, but tight smile, "Heimdall told us of your coming."

_Ah._

Thor nods, looking relieved, "Good. Where is my fa—Odin?"

"Hliðskjálf, I imagine." Sif answers.

_Hliðskjálf?_

Thor nods.

Loki's expression darkens and he moves towards the palace's doors. As they draw closer, some of the guard raise their weapons, but Loki throws them to the side with a mere flick of his hand. Within minutes, Loki has successfully navigated to the throne room and Thor throws Mjolnir at the wood, blowing it to pieces.

"All-Father!" Loki yells out sharply. Tony trails after him, bracing his weapons should the need for a fight arise. Odin is sitting on his throne, Frigga standing beside him. A group of men are before the two, but as their group advances, they quickly scramble out of the way.

Odin lifts an eye, almost lazily, towards the dark-haired Asgardian. "Loki." He says bonelessly. "You are speaking to a king, kneel."

Loki snarls. "Don't play that with me. I'd bow to a smear of mud before  _you."_

Odin's eye narrows, "You would  _dare_ to speak to me in such a way, boy—!?"

"I know what you did." Loki announces flatly. "I know what you  _caused._ Who you attempted to kill."

Frigga's eyebrows meet, "Loki, of what do you speak?"

Loki ignores her, he has only eyes for his father. "Where are my children?"

Odin stares at him for a long moment, then  _laughs._ Long, guttural chuckles—as if Loki has just found the perfect punch line. Tony shares a bewildered look with Thor. "Child, you have been seeking your dead children for long enough. They are in Valhalla, their bodies  _rot_ on Asgard."

Sigyn raises her sword, back arched, "You would even  _dare_ to speak such about my—"

"Yes!" Odin cuts in before she can finish, "Because you have held onto the dead for too long.  _Let them rest in peace."_

Thor gives a low shake of his head in disgust, "Father, Sleipnir—"

"Hggnrrr!" Odin growls out, jabbing a finger in Thor's direction who quickly snaps his jaw shut. "Science, boy! You know not of what you speak!"

"My  _son."_ Loki growls, "He's speaking of my son. His  _nephew."_

" _They are dead."_ Odin insists.

Loki swears. Harsh and violently in Aardent, his patience appearing to reach the breaking point. He storms up the steps to the throne and grabs Odin by the throat, dragging him off the throne. Frigga gasps, her hands covering her mouth. "On the Norn's name, All-Father," Loki spits, tightening his hold, causing the white-haired man to garble, " _tell me what you did to my children."_ Loki's voice has lost it's calm edge, there's nothing but rage. Rage strong enough to raze a city to the earth.

His eyes hold the same promise.

"Loki," Frigga whispers harshly, she makes a move forward, maybe to stop him, but Sigyn, (who Tony can't remember moving, but is suddenly  _there),_ grabs his shoulder and holds her in place firmly.

Odin stares at Loki for a long second, then gives a crooked, deranged smile. His hands are tightly gripped around his youngest son's forearm, but he doesn't appear able to do anything about it. Realizing this apparently doesn't factor into his next words: "I've already said everything I know."

Loki chokes, gasping a hiss between his teeth then shoves the king away from him. "You said—" He starts.

"That your children were taken care of? That they were dangerous?" Odin challenges, "Come now, Loki, I thought you a smarter boy than this, son."

Loki stares at him.

Tony feels his fists clench tightly with anger. Conclusions have already been drawn and traced back to, but the realization still feels like a slap in the face.  _Odin did this to his daughter-in-law. To his grandchildren. What sick minded, monster would—?_

A look Tony can't quite interpret flashes over Loki's face and Thor makes a noise behind him. Loki's eyes narrow a minuscule amount before he punches Odin across the face. Tony didn't even see his hand  _move._ One second it was still at his side, the next the old king is stumbling backwards on the steps, hand pressed against his bleeding noise. It's dripping blood and crooked, but Loki isn't done.

From the looks of things, he hasn't even  _started._

Frigga inhales sharply behind them.

Tony ignores her.

Loki shakes his head slightly, a low laugh bubbling in his throat. Odin looks up at him, face clearly startled. The trickster doesn't move, but his body is leaking rage.

Odin releases a low growl and straightens his position, adjusting his grip on Gungnir, clearly preparing for a fight. Tony adapts his repulsors to this, raising them level with the king once more. From the corner of his eye, he sees Clint's blow lift and Natasha's cuff. "You would  _dare—!"_ Odin starts.

"Father," Thor says sharply, "that is  _enough._ You disgust me. I can't believe you would  _dare_ interfere with the life Loki and Sigyn had created. You—"

" _SILENCE!"_ Odin roars.

Thor's jaw snaps shut, his moment of bravery flickering out.

Tony's anger rises to his throat.

Loki's eyes narrow dangerously and he shifts slightly, " _Stop it."_

Odin turns to him and looks bemused, "Stop  _what?_ I am your  _king,_ you insolent boy and beyond that—you owe your  _life_ to me,  _Jotunn."_

_No. He doesn't. He owes you nothing._

Loki flinches, but his chest heaves with shallow breaths, "My children.  _You took my children."_

"Nothing less than you deserved. They would have been just as much a monster as you." Odin sneers. "It's in your bloodline."

"How  _dare_ —" Siygn starts.

Loki jerks slightly, his breaths coming shorter and shorter. "Sigyn must be relieved, she hasn't had to deal with your  _roots_ tainting her children, any mother would be ashamed of any spawn you created—"

Odin doesn't finish.

Loki lets out a shout before drawing daggers and  _diving_ at him. Odin barely dodges the first swing, but gets nicked on the nose with the second. Odin brings up his weapon for defense, but the battle is short lived. Even despite Odin's age, and therefore more skill, it's clear that Loki surpasses his father. He fights with a  _knife pick grip_ for pete's sake, you don't go running around in close combat with that style unless you  _know what you're doing._

Gungnir tumbles from Odin's grasp as the old man is thrown to his back. Loki tosses the spear at his father's feet, his fists glowing with a green-red power. It seeps around his fists like mist and dripping water; his eyes are alight with the sorcery. Loki begins to speak lowly, dangerously, " _Years_ I cowered away from you. I spent my entire  _life_ trying to make you proud and what you do you return? You treat me as if I'm nothing, you raise me to a birthright I can never claim, you  _banish my wife, kidnap my children and leave them to die._ I spent a  _year_  in captivity with one of the most psychopathic beings in the universe and HE WAS MORE MERCIFUL!  _I HATE YOU!_ "

Odin rears back from him, but Loki grasps him by his collar and drags him to his feet. "You are a poor excuse for an Asgardian. I was more afraid of  _you_ than I ever was of monsters hiding under my bed at night. The law demands your head for mistreating your children."

Odin's eyes widen, but Loki  _grins._ "But  _I_  demand a penalty. As a member of the Elite Magicians, Odin Bruai Borson, I strip you of your title, your rank, and your right to Asgard's throne. You are unworthy of your power, of the All-Force, the ground of which you walk, and if you  _had_ any loved ones, you would be unfit to see them."

As Loki speaks, he lifts a hand out and... _draws_ some sort of glowing light from Odin's mouth, eyes, nose, and ears. Odin  _writhes_ in his grasp, but Loki doesn't release him. He keeps pulling and pulling and pulling the power from the older man until Odin's shouts stop and he slumps in his grip. Loki lets him fall to his knees, gasping in pain and twitches his fingers slightly. The glowing orb vanishes.

Loki's hands stop glowing, and the power radiating from him ceases.

Gathering together his breath, he leans down beside Odin and tilts his head slightly, watching as Odin attempts to pull himself together again with little success, "Now," Loki's voice is smooth and soft, "are you ready to tell me where you hid my sons?"

Odin sputters, wiping blood from the edge of his mouth. " _Monsters."_ He corrects.

Sigyn draws her sword.

Loki's fingers tighten and he closes his eyes, jaw tensing. Natasha shifts to take a step forward, but all of them whirl when a weird sort of hollowing-swallow noise rings out. It sounds like a high-pitched whine, but also that someone is popping bubbles in 8D audio. A green portal is forming with a center of black.

It spreads outwards, gaining growth and looks fully formed in a little under fifteen seconds. Tony swears under his breath, shifting to stand beside Clint.

A woman steps from the portal. Her clothing is in tatters and long, dark black hair is tumbling around her face. It's clear that she hasn't seen a hairbrush or the sun in a long time. Her face is waxy, pale, and drawn thin from gautness. She looks like a walking corpse. Cadaverous.

Her eyes survey the scene with some interest, then it lands on Odin and her lips curl up with distaste. Hate. Tony lifts his weapons towards her warily.  _Please don't be a hostile. Please don't be a hostile. Please don't be a—_

Odin releases a sharp cry, scrambling away. "Look at what you've done!" Odin shouts, " _You idiot,_ you've doomed us all!"

The woman smiles tightly and shifts her weight to one hip. She looks murderous. "Oh, come now," she murmurs, taking a step forward, "aren't you glad to see me? It  _has_ been so long, Dear Father."

Tony's mind draws blank.

Uh.

She.

It.

What.

_Father!?_

Thor never mentioned a sister. Loki never mentioned a sister.  _Asgard never flipping mentioned a sister. Who the heck is she supposed to be!?_

Frigga chokes sharply and all of them turn to look at her. Her blue eyes are wide and her hands are covering her mouth as if she'll spill secrets out in a tumbling wave. With reluctance, the All-Mother removes her hands and says lowly: " _Hela?"_

Hela, Norse goddess of death.

Helheim, world of the dead.

_Oh._

_Oh no._

Hela's smile broadens into something sharp, "Hello, Stepmother. You look ill."

Frigga draws away from Sigyn and takes several steps  _towards the creepy lady. Idiot._ Rats, if Loki and Thor's mom dies because of this lady, they're going to kill her. Then Tony and the Avengers are going to kill her, because that is just  _rude._

Frigga shakes her head slowly and when she's less than a foot from Hela, she  _throws her arms around her, and tugs her close._ "Oh, my daughter," Frigga whispers, her voice wet, "I have missed you so. Please, spare your wrath for a moment."

Tony shares a bewildered look with Steve.

_What on the—?_

Whatever Hela was expecting to happen, being  _hugged_ wasn't high on the list. Or  _on_  the list. Her face is so startled and horrified that Tony could mistake it for a murder victims. Hela's body is stiff and tight, but after a second she hesitantly rests a hand on the queen's back. Her face softens.

The moment is broken, however, when Odin releases a loud war cry and dives to his feet, one of Loki's daggers in hand and attempts to make a jump at the trickster. He's millimeters from gutting Loki through the stomach when a sword sails through his chest. Mjonlir barely misses his face.

Odin chokes, and Tony whirls, startled.

Hela lowers her hand, and hisses out something unflattering under her breath as she escapes Frigga's embrace and moves towards Odin, grasping the hilt of the sword and pulling it from him,  _slowly._  Blood begins to leak openingly. "I hope you  _rot."_ Hela snears. Thor grasps the handle of his weapon, coming to stand next to the creepy-lady.

Loki takes a step forward, giving a breathless thank you to the older woman and grasps Odin's shoulder. "I would let you bleed out and  _die_ like you deserve, but then you wouldn't  _suffer."_ He moves his hand in front of Odin's face and the king slumps against the ground, weightless and asleep.

000o000

Loads of family problems aside, the rest of the trip to Asgard goes over smoothly.

Family problems included, it's a flipping mess. Loki publicly denied Odin his right to the throne by some sort of oath bound to the Norns that Tony doesn't think he'll ever understand (or if he wants to), and Thor, as next in line, is legally bound to take the throne.

But then there's Hela.

Apparently bonded from their mutual experience over making Odin suffer, or having  _suffered_ from him, Thor, Hela, and Loki get off well. Well- _ish._ Hela is clearly a temperamental being with a wild flare of temper that's hard to predict and protect against. Tony tried poking at her verbally and nearly lost a finger.

But she's not evil.

She's just angry.

According to Thor (none of the team was privy to it), the Asgardian royal family sat down for a long overdue chat, discussed the Hela plight and all that mess, then came to some sort of understanding. Tony has his doubts this would have happened if Frigga had not drawn her act together finally, grabbed all three of her children by their ears and dragged them into the throne room privately.

Hela, as is her birthright, is given the rights to the throne so long as a member of the royal family supervises her for the next fifteen years, as was the requirement from parliament.

Because politics.

Yuck.

Odin, much to Tony's pleasure, does not receive a happy ending. He's not certain really what happened to him, only that he's not enjoying his life at the moment and it's somewhere that involves a lot of dirt, mud, and blisters. Tony's guessing farming, but he's really not sure. Dragging the king from his status as above all to a  _farmer_ was indeed creative. Just not the gruesome death Tony had in mind for him. Or, privately,  _hoped._

With Heimdall's tongue at last loosed, he takes Sigyn and Loki aside privately to give them the locations of their children and both happily, with tears, go to retrieve the young Aesir across the planet. Odin's spell no longer holds them, and their animal forms are shifted at last. One of their sons was in the stables and Tony's deeply discomforted by the idea that Loki's  _child_ was a  _horse. People rode him._

Both are happy despite this though. The family retrieves the twins from Vanaheim then leaves for Earth, where they have no royal obligations. Sigyn and Loki can just be a married couple and raise their children.

Tony's happy for them.

Without Odin staring down Thor's every move, he happily received the blessing of his mother for his and Jane's wedding, and proudly proclaimed such to all who would hear him. Tony shook his head with exasperation and they leave for Earth.

Four months from their hasty attack on the palace, Tony's sitting in his lab with Morgan bundled up against his chest as he attempts to decode yet another mess that S.H.I.E.L.D. sent him. He's at the point of giving up with frustration when his phone buzzes.

Morgan makes a little noise and Tony gently rests a hand on her back, grumbling under his breath in annoyance, but nonetheless unburies his phone from the piles of work and flicks the screen open.

It's a picture from Natasha. Loki, Sigyn, and their small army of children are in a playground with Loki and Sigyn laughing as one of their sons (Tony will be the first to admit he can't really tell them apart) making a face at them. Thor and Jane are sitting in the background, with Darcy noisily stuffing her phone between the two with a wide grin.

Below the picture is the words:  _Guess who's happy? -NR_

He can almost hear her sarcasm, and Tony grins slightly, shakes his head with fond exasperation, then fires back:  _Don't need to. You can see it in their faces. -TS_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Side note: What Tony says happened to Odin was only what he was TOLD. Thor decided it was probably better to lie a little than explain his actual fate: public flogging then execution via Hela. They then burned his heart (the carrier for the soul in Ancient Egypt and I'm going to say it's that way for Asgard, too) to prevent passage to Valhalla and tossed his body into the Void. 
> 
> Okay, with that grueseme death aside, 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading! :) Your encouragement has meant a great deal to me, more than I can really express. :) You're all amazing! Thank you again! 
> 
> Happy April, my stars! I love you all! =D 
> 
> -GalaxyThreads


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